The first typescript

[Page 52]

Ashbery: “The Skaters,” first typescript, page 52
"The person" is lonely
As that Weenix "Head of a Man," or an old and discolored umbrella.
Near the postoffice calendar with its amazing digits
The colored perfume of "sense" appropriations makes a kind of shroud
Of mere slips and postscripts of meaning--here is the central orifice
Of all the gigantic vocabulary of meaning, like a garden with a central spot:
A granite terrace extends out into so much that is fresh and green
As though buoyed up by the negation of its own dishonoring weight.