ASHBERY'S HOUR
JULY 28, 1927

Chants of birdsong
on your Manhattan window
a corner of bookends
crushed by inclemency
of the hot July wind
over Manhattan's sky line's
tabled words,
rants of love in jazz
heard outside mirrors of wine
to devour fabled rhythms
for animated responses
along the rim of city's dust
in unexplored weights
of wisdom's revelation
from animated regards
in a poet's moonlit mirage
of freedom's sensibility
here to celebrate my visit
on your birthday.