imagine!

When I was a child
I played by myself in a
corner of the schoolyard
all alone.

I hated dolls and I
hated games, animals were
not friendly and birds
flew away.

If anyone was looking
for me I hid behind a
tree and cried out “I am
an orphan.”

And here I am, the
center of all beauty!
writing these poems!
Imagine!

I'm memorizing this poem, "Autobiographia Literaria," 
by Frank O'Hara for A Cup of Jo's Fall Challenge #2. 
Photo: The Sartorialist

god knows it has nothing to do with the heart

You say that everything is very simple and interesting
it makes me feel very wistful, like reading a great

                                      Russian novel does

from Yesterday Down at the Canal, Frank O'Hara, 1961

Photo: Caitlin Mociun via all the mountains

so i'm reading this frank o'hara poem

There's no Tuesday interview today. So I'm reading this Frank O'Hara poem: Now I am quietly waiting for / the catastrophe of my personality / to seem beautiful again, / and interesting, and modern.

And visiting these two favorite blogs: forty-sixth and grace and 16 house. And wanting to see this exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum. And admiring Something Changed's reading list.

And next week we'll have a Tuesday Interview from Peter Orner.

Painting: Charles Demuth, Dancing Sailors, 1917.

I think of it on grey

I've got to tell you
how I love you always
I think of it on grey
mornings with death

in my mouth the tea
is never hot enough
then and the cigarette
dry the maroon robe

chills me I need you
and look out the window
at the noiseless snow

At night on the dock
the buses glow like
clouds and I am lonely
thinking of flutes

I miss you always
when I go to the beach
the sand is wet with
tears that seem mine

although I never weep
and hold you in my
heart with a very real
humor you'd be proud of

the parking lot is
crowded and I stand
rattling my keys the car
is empty as a bicycle

what are you doing now
where did you eat your
lunch and were there
lots of anchovies it

is difficult to think
of you without me in
the sentence you depress
me when you are alone

Last night the stars
were numerous and today
snow is their calling
card I'll not be cordial

there is nothing that
distracts me music is
only a crossword puzzle
do you know how it is

when you are the only
passenger if there is a
place further from me
I beg you do not go

"Morning," Frank O'Hara

Photo: "Valiant" by Marnie Webb

for grace, after a party

You do not always know what I am feeling.
Last night in the warm spring air while I was
blazing my tirade against someone who doesn’t
interest
me, it was love for you that set me
afire,

From "For Grace, After a Party" by Frank O'Hara via Books vs. Cigarettes. It's the line about the tirade against someone that doesn't interest me that gets me.

Photo by Mikael Kennedy via Horse Hunting

the most dreary of practical exigencies

and I am feeling particularly testy at being separated from
the one I love by the most dreary of practical exigencies money
when I want only to lean on my elbow and stare into space feeling
the one warm beautiful thing in the world breathing upon my right rib

From "Les Luths" Frank O'Hara
Photo: Artists at the Cedar Tavern, 1959 by John Cohen
via Nearness of Distance

in my mouth the tea

the parking lot is

crowded and I stand

rattling my keys the car

is empty as a bicycle

what are you doing now

where did you eat your

lunch and were there

lots of anchovies it

From "Morning," by Frank O'Hara

all desire

Lucy Corin loves Frank O’Hara’s "Morning."

Photo Sally Singer, The Selby