It's raining and there's jazz on the speakers and I'm halfway through my last Cuban cigar and I just laid it down. I'm in here and I'm back. The work is alive and by summer's end I know the evolution will be complete. Next level attained.
from "For Grace, after a party"; Frank O'Hara, 1957
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,
and isn't it odd? for in rooms full of
strangers my most tender feelings
writhe and
bear the fruit of screaming.
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