By John Ashbery
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Example text
No matter how raffish The new clients moving slowly along, Taking in the sights, placing bets, There comes a time when the moment Is full of, knows only itself. Like a moment when a tree Is seen to tower above everything else, To know itself, and to know everything else As well, but only in terms of itself Without knowing or having a clear concept Of itself. This is a moment Of fast growing, of compounding myths As fast as they can be thrown off, Trampled under, forgotten. The moment Not made of itself or any other Substance we know of, reflecting Only itself.
It cannot be associated reliably with the way we speak or breathe. ” Printed books altered our relationship to poetry by allowing us to see the lines more readily. What new challenges do electronic reading devices pose? In a printed book, the width of the page and the size of the type are fixed. Usually, because the page is wide enough and the type small enough, a line of poetry fits comfortably on the page: What you see is what you’re supposed to hear as a unit of sound. Sometimes, however, a long line may exceed the width of the page; the line continues, indented just below the beginning of the line.
The hedges are nice and it’s too bad That one bad axe stroke could fell Whatever needed to advertise its Very existence. And then cars strut forth on the highway Singly and in groups Of three and four: orange, Flamingo, blue-pencil blue, The gray of satisfaction, the red Of discussion, and now, moved, the sky Calls itself up. As leaves are seen in mirrors In libraries Half-noticed, the sound Half-remembered and the Continuing chapter half-sketched— O were we wrong to notice To remember so much When so little else has survived?