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This poem is taken from PN Review 146, Volume 28 Number 6, July - August 2002.

Two Poems John Ashbery


Quiet around here. The neighbours,
in wider arcs, getting to know each other.
The fresh falling away.
A sweetness wells out of the dark about now.
The explorer angles his telescope
at frigid violets on a settee.
A curate is near.

Frogs and envelopes join in the fun:
That was some joust! they say. Today we learned two things
too many: how to whimper, and the secret stasis of land.
Always, coming home
you pause before the little bridge, sigh, and turn ahead.
The real time of water gives you little wiggling room,
but it's all right, because it's all over.

Some dream accosted me on the turnpike. I felt strait-laced

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