Unpublished poems and fragments from the first typescript:
Lists
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One page, dated “1/1/[19]64” Two distinct corrections campaigns: (1) black ink and (2) red ball-pen. The few circled words seem to indicate (as it is often the case in Ashbery's manuscripts) dissatisfaction or hesitations on the writer's part. |
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| Lists |
| Long the days | |||
| Shepherded out of November | |||
| Into the most northern and calmest of | |||
| New | {Profit} areas. |  |
| The plumes | |||
| Pungent together announce | |||
| The white stalk bristling of its time | |||
| a | {To} forwardness. | |
| stet | As though a song {broke} | | |
| severed | {Out of} the wood. | |
| The closed ground | |||
| Open on kind thoughts, tears, sweetmeats and confusion | | ||
| Because this started out of the ground. | |||
| Dear triangle, | |
| The weather abhors you | |||
| To prop up | |||
| The new storm with shrugging wood of | |||
| {The} lace of private saints | | ||
| Into days drier {than} beyond belonging | | ||
| Privy to everything | |||
| Arranged, worried about |
| Desperately leading the new year over mountains{.} | | ||
| Your ballots looked like this. Yellow in a white year. |
| Growing out to the nickname | |||
| Creating what I am, I, | |||
| Put off, waiting separately |
| Sold to the trunk | |||
| Sold to the leaves |
| Worn out by others' eyesight, (pressed by {violent} delight | | ||
| Pressed by delight Suggesting a varied climate | | ||
| Displaying all old cares. |
| 1/1/64 |
