Literary Criticism
Time’s infinite nature daunts
Even the emptiest of minds
What do you like about Ashbery?
The rollercoaster ride, the bonfire
In the forest fending off
An orbit of yellow eyes
Now so close you can
Smell the singe of fur
How about Simic?
The spare sliver of skin
Separated from the next
By a single swing of the scythe
If past and future disappear
The present must expand
This is everything
2/11/26
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