Tag Archives: frank o’hara

national poetry month, day 2.

I’ve changed my mind four times about which O’Hara poem to post. They’re all great and I get lost in the immediacy of his voice – that conversational how-was-your day vibe that rolls along and then knocks you down with an image that’s utterly everyday and incredibly profound.

My Heart
by Frank O’Hara

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
some aficionado of my mess says “That’s
not like Frank!”, all to the good! I
don’t wear brown and grey suits all the time,
do I? No. I wear workshirts to the opera,
often. I want my feet to be bare,
I want my face to be shaven, and my heart–
you can’t plan on the heart, but
the better part of it, my poetry, is open.

national poetry month, day 14.

Slightly past the hour mark for the day, a lovely bit by Frank O’Hara that I just read for the first time.


Have you forgotten what we were like then
when we were still first rate
and the day came fat with an apple in its mouth

it’s no use worrying about Time
but we did have a few tricks up our sleeves
and turned some sharp corners

the whole pasture looked like our meal
we didn’t need speedometers
we could manage cocktails out of ice and water

I wouldn’t want to be faster
or greener than now if you were with me O you
were the best of all my days

weekly poem (ok, semi-annual, but who’s counting?)

This one is a long time favorite of mine, and singularly appropriate for one of the most dismal Februarys I’ve ever experienced. Take it to heart.


Lana Turner has collapsed!
I was trotting along and suddenly
it started raining and snowing
and you said it was hailing
but hailing hits you on the head
hard so it was really snowing and
raining and I was in such a hurry
to meet you but the traffic
was acting exactly like the sky
and suddenly I see a headline
there is no snow in Hollywood
there is no rain in California
I have been to lots of parties
and acted perfectly disgraceful
but I never actually collapsed
oh Lana Turner we love you get up

– Frank O’Hara (from his Collected Poems)

For everyone who has literally or figuratively collapsed this month, myself included, I love you get up.