Yes, the road.

Yes, the road.
Eagle Nest, New Mexico. “People like to drive because driving is actually and symbolically an almost perfect mechanism for escape…there is probably no human being who does not have troubles, real or imagined, from which he at times feels the need to flee.” George R. Stewart.

PHB

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Brooklin, Maine, United States
We own a 1975 GMC Sierra Grande 15 in Maine and a 1986 Chevrolet Custom Deluxe 10 in West Texas. Also a pair of 1997 Volvo 850 wagons. Average age in the fleet is 28 years--we're recycling. I've published 3 novels: THE LAW OF DREAMS (2006), THE O'BRIENS (2012), and CARRY ME (2016). Also 2 short story collections: NIGHT DRIVING(1987) and TRAVELLING LIGHT (2013). More of my literary life is at www.peterbehrens.org I was a Fellow at the Netherlands Institute for Advanced Study for 2012-13. I'm an adjunct professor at Colorado College and in the MFA program at Queens University of Charlotte. In 2015-16 I was a Fellow at Harvard University's Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study. The Autoliterate office is in Car Talk Plaza in Harvard Square, 2 floors above Dewey Cheatem & Howe. SUBSCRIBE TO THE AUTOLITERATE DAILY EMAIL by hitting the button to the right.

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

A.R. Ammons poem "Driving Through"




Driving Through
 
 
In the desert midnight I said
taking out my notebook I
    am astonished
though widely travelled having
seen Empire State and Palestine, Texas
and San Miguel de Allende
to mention extremes
and sharpened my pencil on the sole
    of my shoe
 
The mountains running skidded
over the icy mirages of the moon
and fell down tumbling
    laughing for breath
on the cool dunes
The stone mosaics of the flattest
places (parting lake-gifts) grouped
    in colors and
played games at imagery: a green
tiger with orange eyes, an Orpheus
with moving fingers
    Fontal the shrubs flooded
everything with cool
water
 
I sat down against a brimming smoketree
to watch and morning found the
desert reserved
trembling at its hot and rainless task
    Driving through
you would never suspect
the midnight rite or seeing my lonely house
guess it will someday hold
laurel and a friend
 
 
in Collected Poems: 1971-1971,
orig. in Corsons Inlet (Cornell U P, 1965)

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