Wikipedia Poem, No. 270

“Only should we / wander a bit and then return without expectations, does some faint impulse twitch at its / base before expiring,” Ashbery


the master-general’s war campaign
for months has treated minor advisers
and top patrons as a scrap or threat

from this pathetic platoon
lorried deep into a methane
swamp the master-general insists

on criticizing the march
and truck-drivers who abide
he also belittles the moon

perhaps he has no regrets
about his attacks maybe they
at crossroads rebuke him unfairly

but the master-general drives
home and hearth to entertain
perhaps his careening mirth

obstinacy and mortal abandon
may trigger drastic alliances
with the sunrise of anonymity