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Jack Gilbert

All things are taken away. Indeed, indeed. But we secretly think of our bodies in the heart’s storm and just after. And the sound of careless happiness. We touch finally only a little. Like the shy tongue that come fleetingly in the dark. The acute little that is there. —Jack Gilbert, from “The Abundant Little,”… Continue reading Jack Gilbert

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Abstract · American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Excerpt · Passage · Poetry · Postmodernism · Surrealism · The New York School

John Ashbery

There is that sound like the wind Forgetting in the branches that means something Nobody can translate. And there is the sobering ‘later on,’ When you consider what a thing meant, and put it down. —  John Ashbery, from “Summer,” Selected Poems (Viking Penguin, 1985)

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