(poetry diary 35) Yesterday I went looking for a poem to help me process a very weird very serious work situation for which, basically, different versions of truth are coming from three different groups (workers vs an administration vs a union.)

I couldn’t find any poems to match the confusion and frustration I’ve been feeling. Maybe I’ll find one later on by accident.  In the meanwhile, I’m finding reading John Ashbery’s poems comforting. He writes pieces which sound like they should mean something (Ashbery has said about his work,“There is no message, nothing I want to tell the world particularly except what I am thinking when I am writing”) but don’t…so the mind struggles to comprehend what’s going on them but ultimately can’t.  They’re often beautifully written, though, so although they give my mind a similar feeling of confusion as I get from my work situation, they are soothing.

Crossroads in the Past

John Ashbery 
That night the wind stirred in the forsythia bushes,
but it was a wrong one, blowing in the wrong direction.
“That’s silly. How can there be a wrong direction?
‘It bloweth where it listeth,’ as you know, just as we do
when we make love or do something else there are no rules for.”


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