Raymond Carver is one of my favorite contemporary poets, although most people know him as a short story writing. Absolutely fascinating that an editor would change his work so extensively. But I'd like to read the un-edited versions.
His poetry is sometimes spare, yet sometimes not. Here's a spare one:
And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.