"It's my lunch hour, so I go
for a walk among the hum-colored
cabs."
-Frank O'Hara
It's National Poetry Month and the first day in a long time that it is above 10C and I, for one, need to fill my head with fresh ideas (for the past three weeks, Gabriel has been saying "ball!" - literally - several hundred times per day, from the moment he wakes up). I need some new sounds.
The other day as I let G. pull books off the shelf with destructive glee, he walked toward me with one of his finds: Frank O'Hara's Lunch Poems.
These days, since I neither take lunch nor read poetry, I have decided to take it as a sign.
I have issued myself a challenge: Take some time for lunch. Read a poem. Write something. Create some kind of poem/prose by Friday, to post on pony.
Even writing this makes me nervous. I haven't written a poem for years.
