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He is John Ashbery

He gets so worked up about what takes a long time to work out.
He walks off the stage when it gets dull.
He looks around for the record player.
He has put in at least ten thousand hours.
He sends a poem called 'The Prelude’ to a New York editor, with a covering note.
He remembers the road down to the beach in autumn.
He inspires people to send mail, sometimes more than once.
He inspires tributes.
He is an American poet.
He has been under an influence that he didn’t understand.
He has been under the influence.
He is an attraction, which wasn’t always the case.
He is an inspiration to many Australian poets.
He influences the writing of other poems.
He is addressed.
He is in some way neither in nor out of control.
He rarely stoops to et cetera.
He is previously published, which is an advantage.
He is in book form.
He gets the okay from his publisher.
He is possible.
He doesn’t worry about acknowledgments.
He is at this stage, though this will probably change, thinking of going for a walk.
He, though this will probably change, is besotted with Czech timing.
He, in midstream, will tell himself to shut up.
He will probably change, not always for the better.
He will ask for them to make decisions, and when.
He hasn’t made any decisions himself since waking up, or breakfast.
He asks for yet another extension.
He is still at the accumulation stage.
He says no with a certain finality.
He isn’t dead.
He’d like to finish the project while he’s alive.
He says yes and when he does you want to be ready.
He is thought to be a monolith.
He is available for engagements, enquiries through his agent on the website.
He went through a dark patch.
He has made some lulus.
He survived the bubble.
He prints on demand.
He avoids use of the word ‘therefore’ as much as possible.
He is resigned to the idea that there will be no payment.
He writes poems of grandeur, poems of limited scope, poems that peter out.
He keeps his contributor copies in a special place, hard to say why.
He will endeavour, again.
He provides a cheap alternative to the stuff with no commas.
He comes at a price, however.
He is pleased with the results of the installation soundtrack.
He feels free.
He wishes to pass this only example of its kind to the gods.
He has a strong visual connection.
He did concrete work but kept it in the file back home, where it remains.
He is welcome at the table.
He presents in black & white only.
He asks what format to send it in.
He thinks, why can’t they work that out themselves?
He sends texts.
He is as they say ahead of his time.
He laughs at the deadline.
He uses days like February 14th to get started.
He is especially interested in the trick questions.
He wrote a sestina about fog.
He wrote a pantoum about the Atlantic Ocean.
He sends as much as he likes to the cutting floor.
He would like at this stage to bury the hatchet.
He mumbles thanks.


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