Song (Is it dirty)
Is it dirty does it look dirty that’s what you think of in the city does it just seem dirty that’s what you think of in the city you don’t refuse to breathe do you…
4 tygodnie temu
Why I am not a Painter
I am not a painter, I am a poet. Why? I think I would rather be a painter, but I am not. Well, for instance, Mike Goldberg is starting a painting. I drop in. “Sit down and have a drink” he says. I drink; we drink. I look up. “You have SARDINES in it.”…
4 tygodnie temu
Katy
They say I mope too much but really I’m loudly dancing. I eat paper. It’s good for my bones. I play the piano pedal. I dance, I am never quiet, I mean silent. Some day I’ll love Frank O’Hara. I think I’ll be alone for a little while.
4 tygodnie temu
As Planned
After the first glass of vodka you can accept just about anything of life even your own mysteriousness you think it is nice that a box of matches is purple and brown and is called La Petite and comes from Sweden for they are words that you know and that…
4 tygodnie temu
A Step Away From Them
It’s my lunch hour, so I go for a walk among the hum-colored cabs. First, down the sidewalk where laborers feed their dirty glistening torsos sandwiches and Coca-Cola, with yellow helmets on. They protect them from falling bricks, I guess. Then onto the…
4 tygodnie temu
Meditations In An Emergency
Am I to become profligate as if I were a blonde? Or religious as if I were French? Each time my heart is broken it makes me feel more adventurous (and how the same names keep recurring on that interminable list!), but one of these days there’ll be nothing left with which to…
4 tygodnie temu
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,…
4 tygodnie temu
Steps
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 all I want is a room up there…
4 tygodnie temu
Now That I am In Madrid I Can Think
I think of you and the continents brilliant and arid and the slender heart you are sharing my share of with the American air as the lungs I have felt sonorously subside slowly greet each morning and your brown lashes flutter revealing two perfect dawns colored by New York…
4 tygodnie temu
Today
Oh! kangaroos, sequins, chocolate sodas! You really are beautiful! Pearls, harmonicas, jujubes, aspirins! all the stuff they’ve always talked about still makes a poem a surprise! These things are with us every day even on beachheads and biers. They…
4 tygodnie temu
Morning
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…
4 tygodnie temu
The Day Lady Died
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…
4 tygodnie temu
Having a Coke with You
is even more fun than going to San Sebastian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier St. Sebastian…
4 tygodnie temu
My Heart
I’m not going to cry all the time nor shall I laugh all the time, I don’t prefer one “strain” to another. I’d have the immediacy of a bad movie, not just a sleeper, but also the big, overproduced first-run kind. I want to be at least as alive as the vulgar. And if…
4 tygodnie temu