The first typescript
[Page 12]
II-A |
Part II |
Pyrography. Running Amok. The West Wind.XXXXXXXXXXXXXX Solitude '63. The Windward and Leeward Islands. Lines Written during a Period of Insanity. Loving You? Election Day. La Glu.XXXXXXX On a Separate Dying. The Sentimental Image. TheXXX A Fork in the Road. Poor People. His Own Invention. In Which All Ends Badly. The Chase. Iris Becomes a Mother Father. In Which All Ends Badly. An Invention: the Telephone. Waking and Felt there a Certain Rightness. A Well of Fire The Flame Fighters. A Well of Fire The Avalanche. But Sort of the Sleeves.XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX The New Job. The Bluff |
Under the window marked "General Delivery"... |
{ | And didn't mind that being too warm like that, waking up to | |
The new rules, exploited almost as soon as planted.} In this hutmentXXXXXXX | ||
Hutment or abode I'll invoke "mitred domes" and suchlike | ||
Awaking to this penitential psalm now | ||
That purgatory's ways have ended | ||
In sleep and satisfaction for each one. |
I have decided to write you this poem of misdemeanors | ||
This volume is geometrical beauty, | ||
Its slabs cannot keep up with the hungering into breath | ||
And final dreams |
But is [?] the egg suggesting the quietness | ||
Of its forms. And sleep is beams | ||
For its retracted dome. |
But, as we saw, sleep is all fours | ||
A beautifully written but inaccurate | ||
Directive charged with savage lisping | ||
A personal memento engraved in the sidewalk | ||
Tormenting the absolute future into lines of acceptance. | ||
Ready to dispatch the elegant part of this | ||
And all ears for the equation you remain on the sill: | ||
Nothing to be prepared for this sleep. |
{ | At once the kindness and friendly clause} | |
And mouth of sea applied to your case | ||
Forever at odds with, and yet draining. |
This should be a letter telling you of changes | ||
At once the kindness and friendly clause | ||
Throwing you a minute to one side | ||
Of how this tossing looks harmonious from a distance | ||
Like sea or the tops of trees, and how | ||
Only when one gets closer is its sadness small and appreciable. | ||
It can be held in the hand |