23rd March 2011

Post with 7 notes

Anxiety | Frank O’Hara

I’m having a real day of it.

   There was
something I had to do. But what?
There are no alternatives, just
the one something.
                                I have a drink,
it doesn’t help - far from it!
                                           I
feel worse. I can’t remember how
I felt, so perhaps I feel better.
No, Just a little darker.
                                     If I could
get really dark, richly dark, like
being drunk, that’s the best that’s
open as a field. Not the best,

but the best except for the impossible
pure light, to be as if above a vast
prairie, rushing and pausing over
the tiny golden heads in deep grass.

Tagged: Frank O'Harapoetry

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