Digt fra John Ashberys digtsamling FRA SIDSTE ÅR, Commotion of the Birds, som jeg købte som e-bog i går aftes og dybt fornøjet har læst lidt over halvdelen af denne morgen:
We watched his regular camera
until it became nervous.
There were other horns inside for us,
things the pasta brought, never to be paced over.
My gosh! The president of the United States!
Years and years went by like that.
It was impossible to keep track of them.
I'm all about truth, and meaning. In the end
they said they were delighted with what they found.
Circuits are busy. Of course, we are not going to sit here
and wait. I have met you in the small shops,
a large cookie presence. I was "robust."
Save me the czardas
at Puke University.
I'm glad he goes in there.
That was the president, you clucks.
Why is it taking so long?
We might come closer (the eldritch mother's refrain
over 23 years ago).
Oh, that's whar that is.
Then suddenly, it's forty years later,
and I was like, "Holy shit!
I'm just happy to be alive!"
It's almost like you've done someting
totally preppy. Your hands are a little dirty,
Yrs and oblige,
Holofernes J. Cringleaf.
"Dear Smitten ...""
- Ashbery tildeles National Humanities Medal, 2012