We drove downtown to see our neighbours; <br />none of them were home, <br />all that was underfoot was lost, <br />cathexis arrived early in a golden coach; <br />seems we weren’t welcome despite; <br />dear spit, the week is turning over. <br /> <br />Yes, I can see I am only in the where – <br />What does the loneliness in all this mean? <br />How can ‘rare earth’ be an element? <br />NB: what is here is certainly not there. <br />Sometimes I think it’s all one big affectation, <br />Every one has to grow up a little in their life. <br /> <br />My head ached from all those boulevards <br />rushing in to fill the unthinkable well; <br />outside under a slappy sky the leaves were right on: <br />it’s coming to a theatre near you. <br />Like all good things, <br />life tends to go on too long. <br /> <br />I'd like to write you about all this.<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/00327-homage-to-john-ashbery/
