This is a beautiful, baffling poem, which, like many of Ashbery's poems is a meditation on writing itself and how we make sense of our experience. Its garish clashing colours and mixture of the epic past of the romances and the mundanity of our everyday landscape remind me of one variety of post-modern architecture.
The poem often comments on itself and even contains a sly parody of Ashbery's most celebrated poem: Self-Portrait in a Convex Mirror, as the speafer describes his reflection in a car hubcap.
Even without understanding more than a little of the poems sense and strategies, this is a pleasurable, provocative poem and one of my personal favourites of Ashbery's.
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The poem often comments on itself and even contains a sly parody of Ashbery's most celebrated poem: Self-Portrait in a Convex Mirror, as the speafer describes his reflection in a car hubcap.
Even without understanding more than a little of the poems sense and strategies, this is a pleasurable, provocative poem and one of my personal favourites of Ashbery's.