Friday, March 30, 2012

Found Poem, After Frank O'Hara

Here's sort of a "found" poem I wrote after reading a bunch of Frank O'Hara books all in one go. I am not the biggest O'Hara fan, I don't totally get on board with poetry written specifically and only for certain people. I hate that kind of mindset! Much of his writing was like this, but on the other hand, he had such a talent for these incredible moments in his poems. He wrote so many wonderful lines that I feel got a little lost in the exclusive nature of his poetry--writing a "found" poem like this allowed me to bring those lines out in a new way.

I don’t think I think
After Frank O’Hara

and I am naked as a table cloth, my nerves humming.
and gusts of water spray over the basins of leaves
the spinning wheel still turns,
to murder minutely and ponder
Oh say can you see Alma. The darling

Against the winter I must get a samovar
I enter my new home full
The stars blink like a hairnet that was dropped
the moon growls at each blinking window
the apartment houses climb deafeningly into the purple

She is very old and dirty

the bars are for rabbits
in wooden clogs so hard on the muscles
as I poke along

“Ah daddy, I wanna stay drunk many days”
Is this love, now that the first love
In the deeps there is a little bird
Oh to be an angel (if there were any!), and go

I don’t think

and you take a lot of dirt off someone
you don’t refuse to breathe do you

Wouldn’t it be funny
while everyone’s in church
we don’t do much ourselves
who wears hats anyway
the only thing to do is simply continue

what of Hart Crane
what of “what of”
the snow will go away, but nobody will be there
as a pig’s tongue on a platter, and storms break over
shade shade shill spade agony freak
I’m not naturally so detached but I think

Justine Bienkowski