—John Ashbery
At the party the chuckles were
contagious but the laughter
was infectious. We thought
that was okay. However,
an hour or so after we get
home, I’m told that I should
shut the bedroom window
whenever I laugh. People
have happy dreams, I say.
Ok ok, he says. My hand
is cramped into the
American Library’s
Anthology of American
Poetry, Twentieth
Century, Volume I.
Friday after
shopping around a bit,
Otto gave me a haircut.
Then we met up
with Mr. Empty
(nicknamed so because
his bottle or drinking
glass always is) who
proceeded to buy us
a bunch of drinks.
We drank fast at his
request and danced
for a couple of hours.
Drunk, we kept
fielding requests for
smooches (we said ‘of
course’), and a very tall
older guy (not so much a
gentleman) basically
dance-humped us
for hours ’til we
piled into a cab and
immediately passed out.
