Always Already Ahead

By | 1 December 2014

There you are. I’ve been walking north for several years hoping you would find
me. I’m sure you needed to feel cooler,

I know I did. I felt a lump under the left book stack and no way to shake loose the
coins on my wrists. Anyhow,

I needed to slow things down. Reading had begun to feel like teeth clamping on a
rod before the shock comes:

I know you’ve heard there are animals that die this way, thinking they have found
a great title,

Reaching across the wire only to have a tail land and zap. The heat is intense
today though you wouldn’t know it from

The sky, such moody clouds, the babies running through the 19th century
singing fâché, joyeux, triste, stopping

Only when conflicting desires trip them up. You know the day will have its
corners, that’s what I love about you

Mr. Ashbery. I often think the Arctic is like sex. You see how long it’s been? Tell
me, can you see the Crimea from the cusp of your poem?

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