A Barge Made of Ice

 

My Erotic Double, by John Ashbery

He says he doesn’t feel like working today.
It’s just as well. Here in the shade
Behind the house, protected from street noises,   
One can go over all kinds of old feeling,
Throw some away, keep others.
                                             The wordplay
Between us gets very intense when there are   
Fewer feelings around to confuse things.
Another go-round? No, but the last things
You always find to say are charming, and rescue me   
Before the night does. We are afloat
On our dreams as on a barge made of ice,
Shot through with questions and fissures of starlight   
That keep us awake, thinking about the dreams
As they are happening. Some occurrence. You said it.

I said it but I can hide it. But I choose not to.   
Thank you. You are a very pleasant person.   
Thank you. You are too.

From As We Know (Viking Press, 1979)

I'm not a big John Ashbery fan – I could never get past that fundamental optical error in "Self-Portrait in a Convex Mirror" (assuming it is an error, and not a false trail laid to entrap and infuriate us lefties – if so, it works) – but I came across this one quoted on an agreeably bonkers blog that I visit most weeks (BLCKDGRD – now he is a massive Ashbery fan) and it echoed the most recent revision of one of my digital collages so closely that I couldn't resist.

I had given the picture the title "Summer Night", but I might reconsider now, and call it "A Barge Made of Ice". It never hurts to make some highfalutin' literary reference, does it?