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Emily used the discarded envelopes of letters sent to the Dickinson
household for scratch paper. These have been kept, and analyzed,
and cross-referenced in a large, expensive book called "The Gorgeous >Nothings".
Most of the jottings became poems. And the authors carefully note
and link these to her complete poems and letters. But some of them
don't link to anything.
So I took all of the jottings that don't link to anything, and
put them in a document in the order that they appeared in the
Directory of the book.
I didn't change anything. Not a word, not a letter, not a dash,
not a missing period or comma. Since her jottings were cramped
into the corners and sides of envelopes, I did take the liberty
of deciding on line breaks.
So, here's a "Last Possible Poem of Emily", as contained in my
Detritus of Emily document...
---
Doubt - which has the
wisest men undone -
There are those who are
shallow intentionally
and only profound
by accident
Excuse Emily and her Atoms
The North Star is of small fabric
but it presides yet
It is a joy to be near you,
because I love you -
if nature makes a distinction
as late as tonight
I do not know -
the happy trouble toward you
like a sight I have
till long
Afternoon and the West
and the gorgeous nothings
which compose
the sunset keep
Clogged only with music,
like the Wheels of Birds
their high appointment
As there are
Apartments in our
own Minds that -
we never enter
without Apology -
we should respect
the seals of others -
But are not all Facts Dreams
as soon as we put
them behind us -
I never saw Mrs Jackson
but twice, but those twice
are indelible,
and one Day more
I am deified
was the only
impression she
Ever left on
Any Heart
she entered -
Helen of Troy will die,
but Helen of Colorado never
Dear friend, can you walk
were the last words that
I wrote her -
Dear friend I can fly -
her immortal soaring reply -
Not to send errands
by John Alden is one
of the instructions
of history -
Eternity will be
Velocity or Pause
Precisely as
the Candidate
Preliminary was -
Character
- Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (12/10/1830 u 5/15/86)
---
On Sat, 11 Oct 2025 13:03:55 -0700, Ned Ludd <nedludd@ix.netcom.com>
wrote:
Emily used the discarded envelopes of letters sent to the Dickinson
household for scratch paper. These have been kept, and analyzed,
and cross-referenced in a large, expensive book called "The Gorgeous
Nothings".
Most of the jottings became poems. And the authors carefully note
and link these to her complete poems and letters. But some of them
don't link to anything.
So I took all of the jottings that don't link to anything, and
put them in a document in the order that they appeared in the
Directory of the book.
I didn't change anything. Not a word, not a letter, not a dash,
not a missing period or comma. Since her jottings were cramped
into the corners and sides of envelopes, I did take the liberty
of deciding on line breaks.
So, here's a "Last Possible Poem of Emily", as contained in my
Detritus of Emily document...
---
Doubt - which has the
wisest men undone -
There are those who are
shallow intentionally
and only profound
by accident
Excuse Emily and her Atoms
The North Star is of small fabric
but it presides yet
It is a joy to be near you,
because I love you -
if nature makes a distinction
as late as tonight
I do not know -
the happy trouble toward you
like a sight I have
till long
Afternoon and the West
and the gorgeous nothings
which compose
the sunset keep
Clogged only with music,
like the Wheels of Birds
their high appointment
As there are
Apartments in our
own Minds that -
we never enter
without Apology -
we should respect
the seals of others -
But are not all Facts Dreams
as soon as we put
them behind us -
I never saw Mrs Jackson
but twice, but those twice
are indelible,
and one Day more
I am deified
was the only
impression she
Ever left on
Any Heart
she entered -
Helen of Troy will die,
but Helen of Colorado never
Dear friend, can you walk
were the last words that
I wrote her -
Dear friend I can fly -
her immortal soaring reply -
Not to send errands
by John Alden is one
of the instructions
of history -
Eternity will be
Velocity or Pause
Precisely as
the Candidate
Preliminary was -
Character
- Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (12/10/1830 -u 5/15/86)
---
Somebody said, all poets are depressed and depressing. Oh, yeh, well
take this all yuu depressives:
in Just-
By E. E. Cummings
in Just-
spring when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame balloonman
whistles far and wee
and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's
spring
when the world is puddle-wonderful
the queer
old balloonman whistles
far and wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing
from hop-scotch and jump-rope and
it's
spring
and
the
goat-footed
balloonMan whistles
far
and
wee
Noah Sombrero <fedora@fea.st> wrote:
On Sat, 11 Oct 2025 13:03:55 -0700, Ned Ludd <nedludd@ix.netcom.com>
wrote:
Emily used the discarded envelopes of letters sent to the Dickinson
household for scratch paper. These have been kept, and analyzed,
and cross-referenced in a large, expensive book called "The Gorgeous
Nothings".
Most of the jottings became poems. And the authors carefully note
and link these to her complete poems and letters. But some of them
don't link to anything.
So I took all of the jottings that don't link to anything, and
put them in a document in the order that they appeared in the
Directory of the book.
I didn't change anything. Not a word, not a letter, not a dash,
not a missing period or comma. Since her jottings were cramped
into the corners and sides of envelopes, I did take the liberty
of deciding on line breaks.
So, here's a "Last Possible Poem of Emily", as contained in my
Detritus of Emily document...
---
Doubt - which has the
wisest men undone -
There are those who are
shallow intentionally
and only profound
by accident
Excuse Emily and her Atoms
The North Star is of small fabric
but it presides yet
It is a joy to be near you,
because I love you -
if nature makes a distinction
as late as tonight
I do not know -
the happy trouble toward you
like a sight I have
till long
Afternoon and the West
and the gorgeous nothings
which compose
the sunset keep
Clogged only with music,
like the Wheels of Birds
their high appointment
As there are
Apartments in our
own Minds that -
we never enter
without Apology -
we should respect
the seals of others -
But are not all Facts Dreams
as soon as we put
them behind us -
I never saw Mrs Jackson
but twice, but those twice
are indelible,
and one Day more
I am deified
was the only
impression she
Ever left on
Any Heart
she entered -
Helen of Troy will die,
but Helen of Colorado never
Dear friend, can you walk
were the last words that
I wrote her -
Dear friend I can fly -
her immortal soaring reply -
Not to send errands
by John Alden is one
of the instructions
of history -
Eternity will be
Velocity or Pause
Precisely as
the Candidate
Preliminary was -
Character
- Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (12/10/1830 ? 5/15/86)
---
Somebody said, all poets are depressed and depressing. Oh, yeh, well
take this all yuu depressives:
in Just-
By E. E. Cummings
in Just-
spring when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame balloonman
whistles far and wee
and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's
spring
when the world is puddle-wonderful
the queer
old balloonman whistles
far and wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing
from hop-scotch and jump-rope and
it's
spring
and
the
goat-footed
balloonMan whistles
far
and
wee
A leaf falls on loneliness.
- E E Cummings
On Sat, 11 Oct 2025 22:04:44 -0000 (UTC), Tara <tsm@fastmail.ca>
wrote:
Noah Sombrero <fedora@fea.st> wrote:
On Sat, 11 Oct 2025 13:03:55 -0700, Ned Ludd <nedludd@ix.netcom.com>
wrote:
Emily used the discarded envelopes of letters sent to the Dickinson
household for scratch paper. These have been kept, and analyzed,
and cross-referenced in a large, expensive book called "The Gorgeous
Nothings".
Most of the jottings became poems. And the authors carefully note
and link these to her complete poems and letters. But some of them
don't link to anything.
So I took all of the jottings that don't link to anything, and
put them in a document in the order that they appeared in the
Directory of the book.
I didn't change anything. Not a word, not a letter, not a dash,
not a missing period or comma. Since her jottings were cramped
into the corners and sides of envelopes, I did take the liberty
of deciding on line breaks.
So, here's a "Last Possible Poem of Emily", as contained in my
Detritus of Emily document...
---
Doubt - which has the
wisest men undone -
There are those who are
shallow intentionally
and only profound
by accident
Excuse Emily and her Atoms
The North Star is of small fabric
but it presides yet
It is a joy to be near you,
because I love you -
if nature makes a distinction
as late as tonight
I do not know -
the happy trouble toward you
like a sight I have
till long
Afternoon and the West
and the gorgeous nothings
which compose
the sunset keep
Clogged only with music,
like the Wheels of Birds
their high appointment
As there are
Apartments in our
own Minds that -
we never enter
without Apology -
we should respect
the seals of others -
But are not all Facts Dreams
as soon as we put
them behind us -
I never saw Mrs Jackson
but twice, but those twice
are indelible,
and one Day more
I am deified
was the only
impression she
Ever left on
Any Heart
she entered -
Helen of Troy will die,
but Helen of Colorado never
Dear friend, can you walk
were the last words that
I wrote her -
Dear friend I can fly -
her immortal soaring reply -
Not to send errands
by John Alden is one
of the instructions
of history -
Eternity will be
Velocity or Pause
Precisely as
the Candidate
Preliminary was -
Character
- Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (12/10/1830 ? 5/15/86)
---
Somebody said, all poets are depressed and depressing. Oh, yeh, well
take this all yuu depressives:
in Just-
By E. E. Cummings
in Just-
spring when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame balloonman
whistles far and wee
and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's
spring
when the world is puddle-wonderful
the queer
old balloonman whistles
far and wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing
from hop-scotch and jump-rope and
it's
spring
and
the
goat-footed
balloonMan whistles
far
and
wee
A leaf falls on loneliness.
- E E Cummings
It is not that poets are depressed. They give us words for things
that we would not otherwise have words for.
On 10/11/2025 4:18 PM, Noah Sombrero wrote:
On Sat, 11 Oct 2025 22:04:44 -0000 (UTC), Tara <tsm@fastmail.ca>
wrote:
Noah Sombrero <fedora@fea.st> wrote:
On Sat, 11 Oct 2025 13:03:55 -0700, Ned Ludd <nedludd@ix.netcom.com>
wrote:
Emily used the discarded envelopes of letters sent to the Dickinson
household for scratch paper. These have been kept, and analyzed,
and cross-referenced in a large, expensive book called "The Gorgeous >>>>> Nothings".
Most of the jottings became poems. And the authors carefully note
and link these to her complete poems and letters. But some of them
don't link to anything.
So I took all of the jottings that don't link to anything, and
put them in a document in the order that they appeared in the
Directory of the book.
I didn't change anything. Not a word, not a letter, not a dash,
not a missing period or comma. Since her jottings were cramped
into the corners and sides of envelopes, I did take the liberty
of deciding on line breaks.
So, here's a "Last Possible Poem of Emily", as contained in my
Detritus of Emily document...
---
Doubt - which has the
wisest men undone -
There are those who are
shallow intentionally
and only profound
by accident
Excuse Emily and her Atoms
The North Star is of small fabric
but it presides yet
It is a joy to be near you,
because I love you -
if nature makes a distinction
as late as tonight
I do not know -
the happy trouble toward you
like a sight I have
till long
Afternoon and the West
and the gorgeous nothings
which compose
the sunset keep
Clogged only with music,
like the Wheels of Birds
their high appointment
As there are
Apartments in our
own Minds that -
we never enter
without Apology -
we should respect
the seals of others -
But are not all Facts Dreams
as soon as we put
them behind us -
I never saw Mrs Jackson
but twice, but those twice
are indelible,
and one Day more
I am deified
was the only
impression she
Ever left on
Any Heart
she entered -
Helen of Troy will die,
but Helen of Colorado never
Dear friend, can you walk
were the last words that
I wrote her -
Dear friend I can fly -
her immortal soaring reply -
Not to send errands
by John Alden is one
of the instructions
of history -
Eternity will be
Velocity or Pause
Precisely as
the Candidate
Preliminary was -
Character
- Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (12/10/1830 ? 5/15/86)
---
Somebody said, all poets are depressed and depressing. Oh, yeh, well
take this all yuu depressives:
in Just-
By E. E. Cummings
in Just-
spring when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame balloonman
whistles far and wee
and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's
spring
when the world is puddle-wonderful
the queer
old balloonman whistles
far and wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing
from hop-scotch and jump-rope and
it's
spring
and
the
goat-footed
balloonMan whistles
far
and
wee
A leaf falls on loneliness.
- E E Cummings
It is not that poets are depressed. They give us words for things
that we would not otherwise have words for.
oI prefer the company of peasants as they have not been educated >sufficiently to reason incorrectly.o - Michel de Montaigne
On 10/11/2025 4:18 PM, Noah Sombrero wrote:
On Sat, 11 Oct 2025 22:04:44 -0000 (UTC), Tara <tsm@fastmail.ca>
wrote:
Noah Sombrero <fedora@fea.st> wrote:
On Sat, 11 Oct 2025 13:03:55 -0700, Ned Ludd <nedludd@ix.netcom.com>
wrote:
Emily used the discarded envelopes of letters sent to the Dickinson
household for scratch paper. These have been kept, and analyzed,
and cross-referenced in a large, expensive book called "The Gorgeous >>>>> Nothings".
Most of the jottings became poems. And the authors carefully note
and link these to her complete poems and letters. But some of them
don't link to anything.
So I took all of the jottings that don't link to anything, and
put them in a document in the order that they appeared in the
Directory of the book.
I didn't change anything. Not a word, not a letter, not a dash,
not a missing period or comma. Since her jottings were cramped
into the corners and sides of envelopes, I did take the liberty
of deciding on line breaks.
So, here's a "Last Possible Poem of Emily", as contained in my
Detritus of Emily document...
---
Doubt - which has the
wisest men undone -
There are those who are
shallow intentionally
and only profound
by accident
Excuse Emily and her Atoms
The North Star is of small fabric
but it presides yet
It is a joy to be near you,
because I love you -
if nature makes a distinction
as late as tonight
I do not know -
the happy trouble toward you
like a sight I have
till long
Afternoon and the West
and the gorgeous nothings
which compose
the sunset keep
Clogged only with music,
like the Wheels of Birds
their high appointment
As there are
Apartments in our
own Minds that -
we never enter
without Apology -
we should respect
the seals of others -
But are not all Facts Dreams
as soon as we put
them behind us -
I never saw Mrs Jackson
but twice, but those twice
are indelible,
and one Day more
I am deified
was the only
impression she
Ever left on
Any Heart
she entered -
Helen of Troy will die,
but Helen of Colorado never
Dear friend, can you walk
were the last words that
I wrote her -
Dear friend I can fly -
her immortal soaring reply -
Not to send errands
by John Alden is one
of the instructions
of history -
Eternity will be
Velocity or Pause
Precisely as
the Candidate
Preliminary was -
Character
- Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (12/10/1830 ? 5/15/86)
---
Somebody said, all poets are depressed and depressing. Oh, yeh, well
take this all yuu depressives:
in Just-
By E. E. Cummings
in Just-
spring when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame balloonman
whistles far and wee
and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's
spring
when the world is puddle-wonderful
the queer
old balloonman whistles
far and wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing
from hop-scotch and jump-rope and
it's
spring
and
the
goat-footed
balloonMan whistles
far
and
wee
A leaf falls on loneliness.
- E E Cummings
It is not that poets are depressed. They give us words for things
that we would not otherwise have words for.
oI prefer the company of peasants as they have not been educated >sufficiently to reason incorrectly.o - Michel de Montaigne