@8 hours ago
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@11 hours ago with 1 note
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@1 day ago
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It’s snowing in Pennsylvania, but I just got new sunglasses in California.

It’s snowing in Pennsylvania, but I just got new sunglasses in California.

@4 days ago with 5 notes
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@6 days ago with 1 note
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Civilization and Its Discontents

A people chained to aurora 
I alone disarming you

Millions of facts of distributed light

Helping myself with some big boxes 
Up the steps, then turning to no neighborhood; 
The child’s psalm, slightly sung 
In the hall rushing into the small room. 
Such fire! leading away from destruction. 
Somewhere in the outer ether I glimpsed you 
Coming at me, the solo barrier did it this time, 
Guessing us staying, true to be at the blue mark 
Of the threshold. Tired of planning it again and again, 
The cool boy distant, and the soaked-up 
Afterthought, like so much rain, or roof.

The miracle took you in beside him. 
Leaves rushed the window, there was clear water and the sound of a lock. 
Now I never see you much any more. 
The summers are much colder than they used to be 
In that other time, when you and I were young. 
I miss the human truth of your smile, 
The halfhearted gaze of your palms, 
And all things together, but there is no comic reign 
Only the facts you put to me. You must not, then, 
Be very surprised if I am alone: it is all for you, 
The night, and the stars, and the way we used to be.

There is no longer any use in harping on 
The incredible principle of daylong silence, the dark sunlight 
As only the grass is beginning to know it, 
The wreath of the north pole, 
Festoons for the late return, the shy pensioners 
Agasp on the lamplit air. What is agreeable 
Is to hold your hand. The gravel 
Underfoot. The time is for coming close. Useless 
Verbs shooting the other words far away. 
I had already swallowed the poison 
And could only gaze into the distance at my life 
Like a saint’s with each day distinct. 
No heaviness in the upland pastures. Nothing 
In the forest. Only life under the huge trees 
Like a coat that has grown too big, moving far away, 
Cutting swamps for men like lapdogs, holding its own, 
Performing once again, for you and for me.

John Ashbery

@8 hours ago
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Sunday.

Sunday.

@13 hours ago with 2 notes
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@2 days ago with 2 notes
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Plains Spadefoot Toad

Toads are smarter than frogs. Like all of us who are not good-
looking they have to rely on their wits. A woman around the
beginning of the last century who was in love with frogs wrote
a wonderful book on frogs and toads. In it she says if you place
a frog and a toad on a table they will both hop. The toad will
stop just at the table’s edge, but the frog with its smooth skin
and pretty eyes will leap with all its beauty out into nothing-
ness. I tried it out on my kitchen table and it is true. That may
explain why toads live twice as long as frogs. Frogs are better at
romance though. A pair of spring peepers were once observed
whispering sweet nothings for thirty-four hours. Not by me.
The toad and I have not moved.

Tom Hennen

@6 days ago with 2 notes
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@6 days ago with 1 note
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