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John Ashbery

Somewhere someone is traveling furiously toward you, At incredible speed, traveling day and night, Through blizzards and desert heat, across torrents, through narrow passes. But will he know where to find you, Recognize you when he sees you, Give you the thing he has for you? — John Ashbery, from “At North Farm,“ A Wave… Continue reading John Ashbery

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

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

John Ashbery

                                                              Something Ought to be written about how this affects You when you write poetry: The extreme austerity of an almost empty mind Colliding with the lush, Rousseau-like foliage of its desire to communicate Something between breaths, if only for the sake Of others and their desire to understand you and desert you For other… 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

The surprises history has For us are nothing compared to the shock we get From each other, though time still wears The colors of meanness and melancholy, and the general life Is still many sizes too big, yet Has style, woven of things that never happened With those that did, so that a mood survives… Continue reading John Ashbery

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