You are so serious, as if
a glacier spoke in your ear
or you had to walk through
the great gate of Kiev
to get to the living room.
I worry about this because I
love you. As if it weren't grotesque
enough that we live in hydrogen
and breathe like atomizers, you
have to think I'm a great architect!
and you float regally by on your
incessant escalator, calm, a jungle queen.
Thinking it a steam shovel. Looking
a little uneasy. But you are yourself
again, yanking silver beads off your neck.
Remember, the Russian Easter Overture
is full of bunnies. Be always high,
full of regard and honor and lanolin. Oh
ride horseback in pink linen, be happy!
and ride with your beads on, because it rains.
Frank O'Hara's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (V.R. Lang by Frank O'Hara )
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(1886 - 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
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