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“Chaos” by John Ashbery 🇺🇸 (28 Jul 1927 – 3 Sep 2017)
Don’t ask me to go there again
The white is too painful
Better to forget it
the sleeping river spoke to the awake land
​
When they first drew the wires
across the field
slowly air settled
on the pools
The blue mirror came to light
Then someone feared the pools
To be armor enough might not someone
draw down the sky
Light emerged
The swimming motion
​
At last twilight that will not protect the leaves
Death that will not try to scream
Black beaches
That is why I sent you the black postcard that will never deafen
​
That is why land urges the well
The white is running in its grooves
The river slides under our dreams
but land flows more silently