These are pieces I've done some editing on. They should be further up on the food chain than most of the stuff around here, but still in progress.
Little poems are often posted to my journal, with the tag poem.
They changed for dinner. In those days //
no one was in a hurry, it was real time //
every time. Usually the streets were saddled with fog //
at night. In the daytime it mostly blew away. //
We kept on living because we knew how. //
Maple seeds like paperclips skittered in the allees. //
We knew not how many enthusiasts climbed the slope, //
nor how long they took. It was, in the words of one, //
"beholding" not to know. We eased by.
-- John Ashbery, "Tension in the Rocks"
This page was last modified on 2011 December 20.