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By John Ashbery

With greater than twenty poetry collections to his identify, John Ashbery is certainly one of our such a lot agile, philosophically complicated, and visionary poets. In Breezeway, Ashbery's powers of commentary are at their such a lot astute; his perception at its so much penetrating. Demonstrating his impressive command of language and his skill to maneuver fluidly and skillfully among wide-ranging techniques and ideas—from the irreverent and slyly funny to the smooth, the unhappy, and the heartbreaking—Ashbery exhibits that he's a virtuoso fluent in assorted types and tones of language, from the chatty and kooky to the lyrical and urbane. jam-packed with allusions to literature and artwork, in addition to to the absurdities and delights of the typical international round us, Ashbery's poems are haunting, awesome, hilarious, and figuring out suddenly, the paintings of a grasp craftsman with a willing figuring out of the age within which he lives and writes, an age whose fears and fragmentation he conjures and reviews with humor, pathos, and a provocative wit.

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Extra resources for Breezeway

Sample text

For now, somewhere out there you too are sleeping, Heedless of my early thoughts. Or perhaps you are not, But awake like me, losing life to pointless contemplation. However you are, I hope that your happiness is greater Than mine. At least that gives me something to cling to In the senseless, boundless enormity of inexistent time. XXIII Today you will be with me in the paradise of never Having been. Today we mount the cross of ourselves, Bask for three black hours in requiem of the spheres. Do not ask what we are doing here.

Drive your head into the center of the earth. Fall head First into the core of this whole obscenely deep muck, This heavy stone mud. Be sure it plugs all the holes. Make sure the black mire seals your eyes and fills your Mouth. Fall so hard the very earth enters your little ears And snakes all the way up into your overused nostrils. Totally cover and cake your head in earth. Glue yourself To the earth with your heavy, thick head. Let this facing Of the total dark earth drive you mad. Bury your brains.

Anyone with the nerve to assume I want anything to do With them will spontaneously perish. The name of you Who alter one atom of my sigh is now stricken from life. XXIX Because we put off killing ourselves, something else Had to do it for us. Since I failed to number my sighs Someone has arrived and is calling me to account. Now a man we unsought is here, standing suddenly right Behind your skull, commanding I bow my head to none So that his sword will unveil more easily the final blow. Bend your necks my noble ones, my lovely aristocracies Of one!

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