john ashbery

after john ashbery:

The frown was academic and gray.
It crumbled, the chips and the color
Mahogany beneath clear cellophane
Can you see, that yes, I am a photographer
Somebody burned two wires so that
they would be soldered together.


a mad libs experiment:

the tennis court oath
What had you been thinking about

the football studiously dirty

heaven blotted apple

I go on ambushed you like wound but

there is a fluffy bed in the way all of this

your were not elected inspector, yet won the hospital

All the way through wintry mix and sleet

When you cried it was wet the failures

stammered with unintentional cow the

panda bear strains fatigued I guess . . . the calls . . .

I tumble

the caterpillar pinkie

why of course reflecting all

then his redid you were fail

I thought going down to lit this

of the rice cooker you ran as easily in the Appalacian Trail

you come through but

are yellow the lovely eucalyptus

mystery you don’t want surrounded the real

you dance

in the winter there was umbrella

The wankster approached in the hall—the

lettering easily visible along the edge of the THE DAILY TAR HEEL

in a moment the kitten would play but there was time

for the daffodil laughed here are a couple of “other”

to one in yon house

The taximan and Susan had come over the library

Turning in toward the corner of the wall his purple socks on

is it exhausted as if to tell you your fears were long

the beer shifted you know those awnings

snow off the pluto had made him escape

silvery an oboe now the old

were there there was sour patch kids

to decide the sweet edge of the underwear

like a particular cry not intervening called the arctic wolf “he’s eating! he’s eating” with an emotion felt it sink into peace

there was no turning back but the end was in sight

he chose this moment to ask her in detail about her family and the others

The person. pleaded—“have more of these

not plaid on the tunic—or the armoires

will teach you about men—what it means”

to be one in a six mauve stripe

and now could go away the three approached the Africa

the reef. Your daughter’s

dream of my aunt understand poverty

darkness in the hole

the publisher finished

They could all go there now the hole was pink flowery

Parsley blowing across his foot glad he brought you