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The Tomb of Frank O'hara
Pan did gather the reeds that day
but breathless booked a flight south to
preserve his desire see after you left
he never knew right from wrong
the castles
dimmed themselves on storied hillsides
in an energysaving measure of respect
Guido heard the boys cry HALT in unison and the ghost
of muggers began to
cry chrysanthemums in Central Park decided to lose their cherries
to old boring men the day you ended the beach
on a whim and though only the waves can reason the fate
they only practice screaming at the moon
Pastoral!
Poetry in Autumn
Though imperceptible I know
The breeze draws the leaves
From branches and pinwheels
Them into the courtyard
Effect and cause you see
When the nights get longer from my workaday window
Leaves are the customers reflecting in chairs
The dozing origami between them
And this is poetry I say
To myself
A café empty of paying customers
Well lit in November
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