Monday, December 22, 2008

Aimless Reading: The A's, Part 23.2

Ashbery, John
your name here (poems)

Bought this late book of Ashbery's at Malaprop's bookstore in Asheville, NC. My family rented a friend's childhood home on the outskirts of town and spent the holidays there in, I think, 2003. During the five days we spent there, 7 feet of snow fell on poor old Buffalo. When we drove back into town, the plowed snow banks were at least a foot higher than Lori's jeep.

Anyhow, here's the opening poem:

This Room

The room I entered was a dream of this room.
Surely all those feet on the sofa were mine.
The oval portrait
of a dog was me at an early age.

We had macaroni for lunch every day
except Sunday, when a small quail was induced
to be served to us. Why do I tell you these things?
You are not even here.

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