Sunday, December 14, 2014

Frank O’Hara Sits in a Vicksburg Bar


Ignoring the fresh vodka tonic at his elbow
But peering intently at his right hand
The thumb and forefinger of which
Pinch a hair plucked from the left
Nostril of that glorious nose

O why did you come to this phlegmatic town?

I have come to feel the sweet
Fetid dust of its breath on my lips!  
I have come to wander drunkenly here!
Why did I come? I have come to rule! 

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