poem for June 27

in memory of my repressions

For goodness sake, needles in the day’s tire, some
reprint bonging out of someplace unfinal; i’m always
ankle-deep in impulse borrowing. So intent on the
nail for hanging up the picture, it
kills the moment when i first look at the picture!

Overall, the humid leaves hang heavy like a screen.

Hatchway leading back into the place where
(arrant) i sail back into yr eyes.
Rapidly developing a “life science.”
At the end of the day, the day starts.

[Frank O’Hara was born on June 27, 1926]

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