<o'hara's "les luths">
2003-12-06.8:14 p.m.
Les Luths Frank O'Hara Ah nuts! It's boring reading French newspapers in New York as if I were a Colonial waiting for my gin somewhere beyond this roof a jet is making a sketch of the sky where is Gary Snyder I wonder if he's reading under a dwarf pine stretched out so his book and his head fit under the lowest branch while the sun of the Orient rolls calmly not getting through to him not caring particularly because the light in Japan respects poets while in Paris Monsieur Martory and his brother Jean the poet are reading a piece by Matthieu Galey and preparing to send a pneu everybody here is running around after dull pleasantries and wondering if The Hotel Wentley Poems is as great as I say it is and I am feeling particularly testy at being separated from the one I love by the most dreary of practical exigencies money when I want only to lean on my elbow and stare into space feeling the one warm beautiful thing in the world breathing upon my right rib what are lutes they make ugly twangs and rest on knees in cafes I want to hear only your light voice running on about Florida as we pass the changing traffic light and buy grapes for wherever we will end up praising the mattresses sleigh-bed and the Mexican egg and the clock that will not make me know how to leave you
back /& forth /& frosting
names are often sad