John Ashbery: “The Skaters”

use to end Part III

	When through soft air calling
	Day distantly resounds with this a cry: Postpone the evil! underlining
	The reply you feel sweating out the a dream

	tunnels
	That the fragments are {castrated,} caught up in mouths
	And spat out like commands. And the whole thing definitely turns on itself
	To return exactly to you.
	That is the penance you have already done:
	January, March, February. We are living towards a possible definition
	Of {the} peaceful{lest} appetite, then you see
	Them standing around limp and hungry like adjacent clouds.

	Soon there is to be exchange of ideas and
	Far more beautiful handshake, under the coat of
	Weather is undecided right now.
	Postpone the explanation.
	The election is to be held tomorrow, under the trees.

	You felt the months keep coming up
	And it is December again.
	The quietxxxxx snow outside. Or is it June full of sun
	And the prudent benefits of sun, but still the postman comes.
[	The true meaning of some of these letters is meager.]

	Another time I thought I could see myself.
	This too proved illusion, but I could deal with the way
	I keep returning on myself like a plank
	Like a small boat blown away from the wind.

	It all ends in a smile somewhere.
	Notes to be taken on all this,
	And you can see in the dark, of which the night
	Is the continuation of your ecstasy and apprehension.