Frank O'Hara

Quietly waiting for
the catastrophe of my personality
to seem beautiful again,
and interesting, and modern

[Frank O'Hara @LunchPoemsTweet]

#OutToLunchPoems

[Frank O'Hara @LunchPoemsTweet]

In times of crisis, we must all decide again and again whom we love.

[Frank O'Hara @LunchPoemsTweet]

Not you, lean quarterlies and swarthy periodicals
with your studious incursions toward the pomposity of ants,
nor you, experimental theatre in which Emotive Fruition
is wedding Poetic Insight perpetually, nor you,

[Frank O'Hara @LunchPoemsTweet]

promenading Grand Opera, obvious as an ear (though you
are close to my heart), but you, Motion Picture Industry,
it's you I love!

[Frank O'Hara @LunchPoemsTweet]

and I am sweating a lot by now and thinking of
leaning on the john door in the 5 SPOT
while she whispered a song along the keyboard
to Mal Waldron and everyone and I stopped breathing

[Frank O'Hara @LunchPoemsTweet]

It is 12:20 in New York a Friday
three days after Bastille day, yes
it is 1959 and I go get a shoeshine
because I will get off the 4:19 in Easthampton
at 7:15 and then go straight to dinner
and I don’t know the people who will feed me

[Frank O'Hara @LunchPoemsTweet]

and the tobacconist in the Ziegfeld Theatre and
casually ask for a carton of Gauloises and a carton
of Picayunes, and a NEW YORK POST with her face on it

[Frank O'Hara @LunchPoemsTweet]

oh god it's wonderful
to get out of bed
and drink too much coffee
and smoke too many cigarettes
and love you so much

[Frank O'Hara @LunchPoemsTweet]

How funny you are today New York
like Ginger Rogers in Swingtime
and St. Bridget's steeple leaning a little to the left

here I have just jumped out of a bed full of V-days
(I got tired of D-days) and blue you there still
accepts me foolish and free

[Frank O'Hara @LunchPoemsTweet]

and the little box is out on the sidewalk
next to the delicatessen
so the old man can sit on it and drink beer
and get knocked off it by his wife later in the day
while the sun is still shining