un poema algo esperanzador ante la catástrofe, del poeta muerto john ashbery

AMID MOUNTING
EVIDENCE




I was reading about
dinosaurs:

Once the scratching
phase is over, and the mirage

Or menage has begun,
and the world lies open

To the radiation
theory (tons of radiation, think of it,

Reversing all normal
procedures

So that the
pessimistic ball of wax begins

To slide down the
inclined plane again

Bringing further
concepts to their doom while encouraging

The infinity of
loose ends that

Is taking over our
government and threatening to become life

  as we know it!)

It is time to slink
off to one’s post in some cold desert

(Not the Sahara,
more like the Gobi actually)

And wait amidst that
sadness known as banishment

For the point to
reappear, though it may never do so,

And what was that
strange uniform?




Only that we lived
happily in ever-after land

And the fire of my
mind was still with us then

Prevented the object
of these negotiations from becoming a

   toy

Farther down the
keyboard (and of course this did happen

Later on, every
potential is realized if one waits long enough

Only by that time
the context may have faded, fragile

As summersweet or
the light on a windowsill, and then,

And then, why the
text will be seen as regular

Only no one wants to
play anymore; games

Have their fashions
much as truth does) and our lives from

Being turned into a
shambles too large to deal with,

  unreasonable;

And as masonry
weathers, as moths are silently at work in

  blankets

Even as you read
this, I saw no reason for complaint

Or murmur and the
entourage liked me, agreeing

With me that this
wasn’t the right time nor place,

That arguments would
be foreshortened if initiated now.

























































































Yet this toothache
that never seems to go away.