In Memory
In Memory of My Feelings
And now it is the serpent's turn.
I am not quite you, but almost the opposite of visionary.
You are coiled around the central figure,
the heart
that bubbles with red ghosts, since to move is to love
and the scrutiny of all things is syllogistic,
the startled eyes of the dikdik, the bush full of white flags
fleeing a hunter,
which is our democracy
but the prey
is always fragile and like smething, as a seashell can be
a great Courbet, if it wishes. To bend the ear of the outer world.
Frank O'Hara
Publicado em 12 de Fevereiro de 2005