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John Ashbery sat staring at the page for hours. He only had one or two good hours in him at most and here he was, late in the day, with nothing to show for it.

John Ashbery sat staring at the page. It was late in the day. He only had one, maybe two hours to go. And nothing to show.

John Ashbery sat staring at the page.

J. A. sat staring.

J. A. sat.

J. A.

J.

When tired, they slept. Tall grass by water.

Tall grass by water. Developers. Paradise. They have been coming here for years, and plan coming for years more. There are plans for a major new development with a community center and system of roads connecting it with last year’s church and hospital complex. Thus it will be easy for them to move between the two, unmolested in paradise.

J.A: It is like dropping a bucket into the mind to see what comes up.

They spend their days waiting for the construction to begin. Waiting for the tap tap tap of JA’s typewriter. He only has two or so hours to go. Sometimes they avoid the roads and walk on the water instead.

John Ashbery stood up, leaving the typewriter and a blank page, its blankness duly noted and catalogued by his assistant and companion of thirty five years.