Sunday, September 3, 2017

God Will Find the Pattern and Break It, or: Rest in Peace


John Ashbery

the bruise will stop by later.
For now, the pain pauses in its round,
notes the time of day, the patient’s temperature,
leaves a memo for the surrogate: What the hell
did you think you were doing? I mean . . .
Oh well, less said the better, they all say.
I’ll post this at the desk.

God will find the pattern and break it.


Here's his recent birthday post with lots of poems and links to more.

I'll get you - I'll get me - some deeper cuts in days ahead.



John Ashbery

The man with the red hat
And the polar bear, is he here too?   
The window giving on shade,   
Is that here too?
And all the little helps,
My initials in the sky,
The hay of an arctic summer night?

The bear
Drops dead in sight of the window.
Lovely tribes have just moved to the north.
In the flickering evening the martins grow denser.   
Rivers of wings surround us and vast tribulation.