Often trees are conductors of the absolute, the sidereal cuss
eternity. the blow escapes the rehab and into the fire as known
but
lost coupons short of your toaster of existence. the mind needs consciousness,
consciousness does not need mind. Bon Voyage.. when the body revolts within itself, and parts battle
parts,
it's the last revolution, the last pogo, follow the few that
have wisdom, don't let it deceive with knowledge, the brass ring of annihilation, you'll be recognized by a chip, and maybe it will be all that's left..

Monday, July 21, 2014

John Ashbery

SOME TREES

John Ashbery
These are amazing: each
Joining a neighbor, as though speech
Were a still performance.
Arranging by chance To meet as far this morning
From the world as agreeing
With it, you and I
Are suddenly what the trees try To tell us we are:
That their merely being there
Means something; that soon
We may touch, love, explain. And glad not to have invented
Such comeliness, we are surrounded:
A silence already filled with noises,
A canvas on which emerges A chorus of smiles, a winter morning.
Placed in a puzzling light, and moving,
Our days put on such reticence
These accents seem their own defense.
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