"Meaningful Love" John Ashbery
My words in BOLD.
What the bad news was
conducts curses worse than
became apparent too late
the sailors too late for morning coffee
for us to do anything good about it.
who whistle and spit on rocks. I was offered no urgent dreaming,
although I applied for one and an American Express,
didn't need a name or anything.
that requested no name or even existence.
Everything was taken care of.
Everything was played and plundered. In the medium-size city of my awareness
In the rack room city of blues
voles are building colossi.
where sweating mats fill with bulk.
The blue room is over there.
Out of the red one. He put out no feelers.
Pinching the ass of the waitress.
The day was all as one to him.
Having just begun with her
Some days he never leaves his room
covered in coffee and baby saliva
and those are the best days,
before noon. Who could pass up?
by far.
Near to no one.
Draft 1:Sailors too late for morning coffee
conduct curses and hock in dishpans.
Everything, quilted and plundered went to AMEX holders,
smiling with green, plastic teeth in the rack city of blues.
Rooms, squeezed with sweaty mats gulp and bulk.
The red one pinches her ass-covered in grease and baby sweat.
She wonders, "Who else?" Near no one could.
Can you now situate this in a particular place? Sort of like we did with Jeff's piece last night, locate this in a specific city, waterfront, beach area. See how that point of reference helps you to reorient the writing.
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