martes, septiembre 05, 2017

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


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

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