"Prewritten Requiem for John Ashberry"
by Glen Armstrong
I always liked the way he shook
language down for its milk money,
standing there in his penny loafers
and Fantômas fan club sweatshirt.
A duck walks into a bar.
A bar walks into a dusky sunset.
It’s all done with Spidercams
and gyro-stabilizers.
It’s a fine way of walking
for those of us who get fatigued,
similar to riding a train
made of nothing but windows.
We don’t really need the radio.
Something else is always on.
Click here to read: “Prewritten Requiem for John Ashbery”