Thirsty? They race across ampersands, scrolling. He isn't sure it's his head. There's a delay right now. Smoke backed up. Ladies please remove hats. It was all over by morning. The village idiot was surprised to see us. "...thought you were in Normandy." Like all pendulums we were surprised, then slightly miffed at what seemed to be happening back in the bushes. Keep your ornaments, if that's what they are. Return to sender, arse. At the intersection a statue of a policeman was directing traffic. It seemed like a vacation, halloween or something. Process was the only real thing that happened. We wove closer to the abyss, a maze of sunflowers. The dauphin said to take our time.
From Quick Question, published by Ecco/HarperCollins. Copyright © 2012 by John Ashbery. Used with permission of the author.
This poem previously appeared in jubilat, issue 21.