One Art
Example Poem
Elizabeth Bishop, d. 1979
One Art
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.
Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
Publication, 1976.
Untitled
The art of losing isn’t hard to master:
innumerable thing seem really to be meant so many things
to be lost, so their loss is no disaster. that
Lose something every day. Oh you can muster a list might muster
the usual list: car-keys, keys, reading-glasses, mortgages unsent—
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing bigger, losing faster,
forgetting faster losing faster
Then practice losing big, & forgetting faster
places and names and where it was you meant
to go—None of them spells disaster.
Lose something every day. Oh, you can muster
the usual list:
Lose something every day. Lose every day. Oh ayone (sic) can muster
the the packages unsent
Look! I have lost my list mother’s watch two houses and my last, or
next-to-last of my three houses. Where they went beloved houses.
Has ceased much less a disaster.
isn’t a problem, much less a disaster.
Two cities, lovely ones. And on, to vaster
and vaster loss, a cape, a con an entire continent.
The art of losing isn’t hard ot master.
a geographical loss—a continent.
The art of losing isn’t too hard to master. The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
gesture?
All that I write is false, it’s evident
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
oh no.
anything at all anything but one’s love. (Say it: disaster.)
What scholars call "Draft 9," out of Bishop's 17, is what we are using here as our Middle Draft.
How to Lose Things /? / The Gift of Losing Things?
One might begin by losing one’s reading glasses
oh 2 or 3 times a day – or one’s favorite pen.
The Art of Losing Things
The thing to do is to begin by “mislaying”.
Mostly, one begins by “mislaying”:
keys, reading-glasses, fountain pens
– these are almost too easy to be mentioned,
and “mislaying” means that they usually turn up
in the most obvious place, although when one
is making progress, the places grow more unlikely
— This is by way of introduction. I really
want to introduce myself – I am such a
fantastic lly good at losing things
I think everyone shd. profit from my experiences.
You may find it hard to believe, but I have actually lost
I mean lost, and forever two whole houses,
one a very big one. A third house, also big, is
at present, I think, “mislaid” — but
maybe it’s lost, too. I won’t know for sure for some time.
I have lost one long peninsula and one island.
I have lost — it can never be has never been found —
a small-sized town on that same island.
I’ve lost smaller bits of geography, like and many small bits of geography or scenery
a splendid beach, and a good-sized bay.
Two whole cities, two of the
world’s biggest cities (two of the most beautiful
although that’s beside the point)
A piece of one continent —
and one entire continent. All gone, gone forever and ever.
One might think this would have prepared me
for losing one averaged-sized not especially——— exceptionally
beautiful or dazzlingly intelligent person
(except for blue eyes) (only the eyes were exceptionally beautiful and
But it doesn’t seem to have, at all… the hands looked intelligent)
the fine hands
a good piece of one continent
and another continent — the whole damned thing!
He who loseth his life, etc. — but he who
loses his love — neever (sic), no never never never again —
What has been called "Draft 1" by scholars, though notably Bishop herself did not number them. Likely written in 1975, according to Alice Quinn.
References:
Bishop, Elizabeth. 2006. Edgar Allan Poe & The Juke-Box: Uncollected Poems, Drafts, and Fragments. Edited by Alice Quinn. Farrar, Straus and Giroux. pgs. 223-242. Published as represented in the typescript.
Image Citation: Study for a woman, “Vintage Festival,” Mendelssohn Glee Club, New York, NY. Robert Frederick Blum, American, 1857–1903. Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum.