Tomorrow is my birthday. If anyone is in the meatpacking district and wants to eat hella pizza and drink reasonably priced cocktails HMU. Please share this and let everyone know what a terrible poet I am. You can be anything you want.
“The bike I was thinking of buying belonged to a friend. Before I could buy it, I crashed on it, riding as a passenger behind my friend, with a beautiful girl squeezed in between us, three on a bike, a Triumph, going far too fast, all of us drunk, around Place de la Concorde, and slipping out of control on the wet cobbles at 4:00 a.m. Pardner, don’t get on a motorcycle with drink in you.” Frederick Seidel
Source: Lehman, David. The Last Avant-Garde: The Making of the New York School of Poets. 1999. Print.
Wikipedia Poem, No. 675
title coiled vibrating string
boy reading how did he hide
so michael keaton in birdman of you
each i’m the wrong person to ask
i don’t actually know the man
i’ve heard his name mentioned in passing
you’d have to know the particulars experience
every idle plot mostly cell phones ever idly plot
circles go on shenanigans hide the title michael
keaton reading nevermore idea all clear
on set the next outlay of black string
round round round then overtop
plato erosion title reading never
notice the hockey puck
what hockey puck?
.”porary ok.”narration”ation is the wodrk tvhe manu
factual wrok.”cturing of the ork ation”ati ual w
“Conte8mmmporary narration is the account of tvhe manufacturing of the wodrk, not the actual wrok.”
“Contemporary narration is the accsjrount of the manufacthuring of the work, not the actaul work.”
“Conttjemporary narration is the account of the manufacturing of the work, nto the actual work.”
“Contemporary narration is the account of the manufacturing of the work, not the actual work.”
[Frank] O’Hara’s ironically self-deprecating tone was much imitated. “I am the least difficult of men. All I want is boundless love,” he wrote. He kiddingly called his own poems “the by-product of exhibitionism” and wrote constantly about his daily life. It was O’Hara who initiated the policy of dropping names in his poems, a habit that became a New York School trademark. O’Hara peppered his work with references to his painter friends — [Jane] Freilicher, [Larry] Rivers, Mike Goldberg, Joan Mitchell, Norman Bluhm, Grace Hartigan, Al Leslie — with perfect indifference to whether readers would recognize their names. That indifference argued a certain confidence in the poet’s ability to make the details of his autobiography-in-progress so irresistible that the reader feels flattered to be regarded as the poet’s intimate. O’Hara s celebration of friendship in poetry represented an ideal that second-generation New York School poets, such as Bill Berkson, Ted Berrigan, Joe Brainard, Ron Padgett, and Anne Waldman, emulated in the 1960s. Everyone wanted to be, as [Ted] Berrigan put it, “perfectly frank.” James Schuyler has a marvelous rift in a letter to Berkson urging him to “be frank (if you can’t be frank, be john and kenneth). Say,” Schuyler continues, “maybe our friends’ names would make good verbs: to kenneth: emit a loud red noise; to ashbery- cast a sidewise salacious glance while holding a champagne glass by the stem; to kenward: glide from the room and not make waves; to brainard, give a broad and silent chuckle; to maehiz, shower with conversational spit drops–but I said friends, didn’t I–cancel the last. To berkson and to schuyler I leave to you.”
Source: Lehman, David. The Last Avant-Garde: The Making of the New York School of Poets. New York: Doubleday, 1998, print, p. 73.
“genius is the ignition of affection — not intellect, as is supposed, — the exaltation of devotion, and in proportion to our capacity for that, is our experience of genius.¨
Dickinson, in a letter to Louise and Frances Norcross, early spring 1881