Unpublished poems and fragments from the first typescript:

The Vacationers


One typescript page, letter format. Undated.

Two correction campaigns: blue ball-point pen and black ink.

Ashbery: “The Skaters,” first typescript, “The Vacationers”

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The Vacationers

Perhaps she, in her way
By the day's last rays, reads my letter.dele
And I am promised and never sent.dele
On flat landscapes the projections occur.dele
And one wishes to escape civilization.
A world of alien diseases is best,
Tyrant fruits, and big-voiced birds
Bespeaking the awe of peace in orange groves
By seaweed fires. But aAt home the bespectacleddele
Reader of newsprint shuns the baroque kiosk.
To send a sheet of paper through the mails
Is hugely difficult. Dirt, darkness and destruction abound
In the so-called modern "paradise"--he thinks
As the trolley draws away from the tracks.
There, leafy near swers in theXXXXXXXXXXXX sewers in the enchanted duskdele
       IsTthe one you say goodbye to, and wait for and return todele
In a straw hat, next to the automatic dispenser's tireddele
Aluminum mirror, [??]XX beside the open door in front of a mop.dele

Food is the only problem here. What foods
To cram down our throats?

But somehow the mirth of everything rolls us along
 blind?Laughing and tired, and commenting on our journeydele
Before it happens, and leaves us at the end.

But the boys always return
Mechanically to he docks, in the squinting sunset, and in the end the feeling of peace
Is traded for light hands winding something
You cannot see, around your head,
Perhaps a band with numbers and the colorsdele
Of a flag, or a message of typewrittendele
Punctuation marks, or a sentence: "Incandescent deathdele
Sprays me, moos drawls. There is perfection in feelingdele
That I might have died." But this cannot be put into words.