Among the Recyclables.

Author:Ashbery, John
Position::FOUR POEMS - Poem

It took so long to get a raincoat I wanted to go to bed with. We sit and pray, lifeless. Seems we had a block conversation with the ancestors. It went something like this: Get out that edge! The man and his varmints always bringing stuff, is powerless to pray. Other nighties entered the woods at various epochs of history. Looks like we had covered all the bases, and were still escaping like gas from a balloon, high above the decorated city and swooning garlands. Gosh, the past luxuriated. How can we lose our lodestar passion in the river and find it now? Do Basques bask in the sardana? Are banks...

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