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John Ashbery

Late Echo Alone with our madness and favorite flower We see that there really is nothing left to write about. Or rather, it is necessary to write about the same old things In the same way, repeating the same things over and over For love to continue and be gradually different. Beehives and ants have… Continue reading John Ashbery

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

John Ashbery

What can I tell you? Everything’s been locked up for the night, I couldn’t get it for you if I wanted to. But there must be some way— it’s drizzling, the lamps along the path are weeping, wanting to show you this tremendous thing, boxed in forever, always getting closer. —John Ashbery, from “Honored Guest,”… Continue reading John Ashbery

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

John Ashbery

Alone with our madness and favorite flower We see that there really is nothing left to write about. Or rather, it is necessary to write about the same old things In the same way, repeating the same things over and over For love to continue and be gradually different. — John Ashbery, from “Late Echo,” … Continue reading John Ashbery

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