mtvU Poet Laureate: John Ashbery

It’s really quite a thrill
when the moon rises above the hill
and you’ve gotten over someone
salty and mercurial, the only person you ever loved.

Walks in the park are enjoyed.
Going to Jerusalem now
I walked into a hotel room.
I didn’t need any name or anything.
I went to Bellevue Hospital,
got a piece of the guy.
As I say, it’s really quite a thrill.

Quite a thrill too to bend objects
that always return to their appointed grooves—
will it be always thus? Or will auto parts
get to have their day in the sun?

Got to drone now.
Princess Ida plans to overwork us four days a week
until the bracts have mauved up.
Then it’s a tailgate party—
how would you like your burger done?

A little tea with that?

I saw her wailing for some animals.
That doesn’t mean a thing doesn’t happen
or only goes away, or gets worse.
What’s the worst that could happen?

The midnight forest drags you along, thousands of peach hectares. Told him I wouldn’t do it if I was him. Nothing to halt the chatter of locusts until they’re put away for the night. He edges closer to your locker. Why did I leave it open? I’ve forgotten the combination. But it seems he’s not interested in the locker, maybe my shoe—something unlike anything he’s ever known. Sensing the tension he broke the ice with a quip about the weather somewhere, or maybe—maybe an observation on time, how it moves vastly in different channels, always keeping up with itself, until the day—I’m going to drive back to the office, a fellowship of miles, collect some of last year’s ammunition. Then I’m definitely going to the country, he laughs.

- from Where Shall I Wander, included in Notes from the Air: Selected Later Poems. Copyright © 2005, 2007 by John Ashbery. All rights reserved. Used by permission of Georges Borchardt, Inc. for the author.