Joe Brainard, Blossom, 1977.
The medieval town, with frieze
Of boy scouts from Nagoya ? The snow
That came when we wanted it to snow ?
Beautiful images? Trying to avoid
Ideas, as in this poem? But we
Go back to them as to a wife, leavingThe mistress we desire? Now they
Will have to believe itAs we believe it. In school
All the thought got combed out:What was left was like a field.
Shut your eyes, and you can feel it for miles around.Now open them on a thin vertical path.
It might give us-what?-some flowers soon?
John Ashery, Houseboat Days,in Collected Poems (1956-1987),The Library of America, p.520.
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