Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Daily Dose

From Poems from the Tibor de Nagy Editions, 1952 - 1966, by Frank O'Hara

AN AIRPLANE WHISTLE (AFTER HEINE)

The rose, the lily and the dove got withered
in your sunlight or in the soot, maybe, of New York
and ceased to be lovable as odd sounds are lovable
say blowing on a little airplane's slot
which is the color of the back of your knee
a particular sound, fine, light and slightly hoarse

From Love Poems (Tentative Title)

No comments:

Post a Comment