“I thought that if I could put it all down, that would be one way. And next the thought came to me that to leave all out would be another, and truer, way.
The flowers were.
These are examples of leaving out. But, forget as we will, something soon comes to stand in their place. Not the truth, perhaps, but–yourself. It is you who made this, therefore you are true. But the truth has passed on
to divide all.
Have I awakened? Or is this sleep again? Another form of sleep?”
from: (opening lines) The New Spirit, one of the three prose poems in the book, Three Poems by John Ashbery
I like the randomness, the “shape of the new merging”, “drink the confusion, sample that other.”