Frank O’Hara’s dead damn it,
Why didn’t anyone tell me?
He died simply years ago
Ran over by a beach-buggy
Or something!
And there I was,
All this long time
Hoping someday that I’ll meet the fellow,
Hear his recite his verse
And marvel at his voice.
But Frank O’Hara’s dead!
What a shock!
“About forty years ago!” someone smirked,
“In 1966″ added another.
And all of this time I thought he was a living poet,
His poems always read so modern.
Perhaps Frank O’Hara really IS alive,
And I am counted among the dead.
—
Lord Pineapple
Comments (23)
Nah. Your verse has a pulse.
This one even made the hubby laugh! I have those feelings all the time–like when I am driving and a truck or something could have hit me and killed me–but didn’t–or did it and I just don’t know I’m dead! I mean, I’ve never done dead before, how will I know?
You’re very much alive. Good one!
And I am counted among the dead. I like that very much!!!!
never will you be counted…i don’t think there is a real number for your infinitiy…
Dead or alive, Franks poems must have been impressive. The years passed and Frank is gone and now remembering, he is pictured as last we saw him. Franks dead, gone and missed and plans will never happen. In a world filled with people, how many more could I miss that have meant so much? This is a story of my life.
good one. reminds me of that song ‘if you die will i get word that you’re gone, or will i hear it in passing conversation’. nice twist
I always like the comment you hear when someone sees another that has been gone a long time…”and I thought they were dead!!!” As for me, I have seen it in the eyes of people at my class reunions!!
Nope. I think you are very much alive. All of you.
so Very stimulating and thoughtful…Made me smile to think some people think before the actually write…I just point my feather and let it rip…love your style.
yeah, excellent. I’m never sure who’s dead or alive. The wondrous nature of authorship: potential eternal life.
Well you might dead in Aloha story, Something about meeting a lion. O’Hara hmm. Think I need to check him out. Good poem.
It’s amazing how good words live on well past their author… much like children. Good poem.
*ducks for cover before saying…* It’s spelled:s-m-i-r-k-e-d.
I like this poem, I like it a lot.
Frank O’Hara spoke to me
From his earthly grave:
“You’re the one whose life has stopped,
You won’t live; just be brave!”
I listened to his haunting words,
And thought of what he said.
I realized my existing here
Passed much more for dead….
I Googled Frank O’Hara for a reminder of his work. He’d be about 80 now. If he hadn’t died so unpoetically, I wonder if he’d have gotten beyond the James Dean admiration phase and, if so, who (whom?) would he write about today.
By the way, as long as your messages get posted, until the internet reaches beyond the beyond, assume you live. Good, because I am much taken by this and your other poems and will subscribe.
Thanks for visiting me and I’d be pleased to be part of your poem favorite list. –Elaine
smirked! Thanks lady (as O’ Hara would have said!)
When you read what people write they seem very alive to you, even if they are dead. I feel the same way when I watch old movies from the 30s and 40s. The actors and actress are very living to me and then I find out they have been dead since to 70s or very old. Movies provide just the illusion of life, but writing is more substantial somehow.
I see O”Hara’s still dying. A truly sad event to discover someone you had hopes of visiting with sometime in the future has up and died. Our last family death happened without warning. Brother and wife, sitting having lunch on the sofa and he died, just like that. Over in seconds, a heart attack, and left a lot of upset, bigtime. There was no wondering about him by family, we all knew it happened and it’s been almost a year and the fighting continues.
John’s brother is the he. He up and died with no warning, not sick at all, just keeled over and was gone. Painless, quick, unexpected, a blessing for him but hell to pay for the rest of his world. They are still fighting over things down there. It’s a long and uninteresting story.
Good poetry is always timeless. I could feel your shock about this poet. But you my dear are very much alive, but it does make you wonder about the dead among the living. Good one!
Hey, Terry, think “ET” it is my hand reaching out to you. Am I alive or dead…hmmm, if I look like ET, who cares??
just givin u 2 eprops.later