Poem of the Day
Yellow Striped Pajamas
By Shamsher Bahadur Singh
walking silently on his paws, he emerges from the semidarkness and disappears into it.
Poetry: A-C
Musica Reservata
By John Ashbery
Then I reached the field and I thought
this is not a joke not a book
but a poem about something—but what?
Obsidian House
By John Ashbery
as was proven
when they entered the house
in which the priest was,
Of Linnets and Dull Times
By John Ashbery
If we are going to mean in so many ways
let them all be lopped off.
On Seeing an Old Copy of Vogue on a Chair
By John Ashbery
For all I know I was meant to be one of those marchers
into a microtonal near-future whose pile has worn away—
Opposition to a Memorial
By John Ashbery
Not that it was needed that much, this much
was clear. A little cleverness would do
Plainness in Diversity
By John Ashbery
Silly girls your heads full of boys
There is a last sample of talk on the outer side
Your stand at last lifts to dumb evening
Psychic Bitters
By John Ashbery
Did he describe the blue stripe again,
unelected governor?
And from trees to hospitals, one story
Rain Moving In
By John Ashbery
The blackboard is erased in the attic
And the wind turns up the light of the stars,
Sinewy now. Someone will find out, someone will know.
Sitting at the Table
By John Ashbery
In these situations
I’m trying to figure out what is going on.
So is he too. Purged for oversharing,
Something It Wasn’t
By John Ashbery
Better homes and gardens for many
but for the rest, we are not so sure.