Now That I am In Madrid I Can Think by Frank O’Hara

Speechless, breathless, oh, here I am again, mooning over a poem. I will never get tired of this feeling; never will find the right words, too, to describe how all of this feels just so right, so perfect, so brilliantly orchestrated, this road that leads me to this moment.

———-

Now That I am In Madrid I Can Think
Frank O’Hara

I think of you

and the continents brilliant and arid
and the slender heart you are sharing my share of with the American air

as the lungs I have felt sonorously subside slowly greet each morning
and your brown lashes flutter revealing two perfect dawns colored by New York 



see a vast bridge stretching to the humbled outskirts with only you

Standing on the edge of the purple like an only tree
and in Toledo the olive groves’ soft blue look at the hills with silver

like glasses like and old ladies hair
It’s well known that God and I don’t get along together

It’s just a view of the brass works for me, I don’t care about the Moors
seen through you the great works of death, you are greater 



you are smiling, you are emptying the world so we can be alone. 


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