poetry slam: Anastasia Ashley Reads WH Auden

Sports Illustrated gal reads Funeral Blues! It's a tear jerker!

Anastasia Ashley is a 20-something bikini gal and pro surfer from San Clemente, CA. She has half-a-mill followers on IG and in February she appeared in Sport’s Illustrated most prestigious Swimsuit Issue alongside Ms Kate Upton and the models Nina Agdal, Lily Aldridge and Chrissy Teigen.

And, what was it, only a year ago when she twerked before her Supergirl Pro heat in Oceanside, ran it on youtube, and stole those multi-million hits?

What’s not to love?

But what you might forget as you disappear into the clouds is that the gal actually rips and is as sweet (and cute) as the buttons on her little shorts. And so smart!

BeachGrit is determined to bring poetry back into the mainstream and so we asked Anastasia to record the 1936 poem (although this is the 1938 version) Funeral Blues by WH Auden.

This recording took place in AA’s bedroom (for acoustic purposes) at her Mexican-style apartment in Orange County.

Join in! Lyrics below.

FUNERAL BLUES

by WH Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message ‘He is Dead’.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.