Now I am quietly waiting for
the catastrophe of my personality
to seem beautiful again,
and interesting, and modern.
--Mayakovsky by Frank O'Hara from Meditations in an Emergency
On Senses
I look and smell like yesterday,
watching the world advance around me
while I exist stuck on a page in a book
I refuse to finish. While I sit, am
I achieving higher thought? Am I advancing
past some transcendental gateway?
I watch. Not observing. Not listening.
I see nothing beautiful, nor anything
atrocious. Real. Concerning
essentials. Food. Shower. In this moment,
that need is more important than the value
of the dollar, or war, or why am I here.
Are my thoughts transcendent? Or are his?
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3 comments:
!!!! Love the Frank O'Hara quotation.
And your existential quandaries.
told you I would blog again!!
Yes, although it was much delayed, mister.
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