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Kiss my lips
Slowly,gentle and kind
Come and kiss my lips
You know we both suffer for eachother
And you know that i'd never do the first step.
So come and kiss my lips.
Make me feel loved,make me die in your arms.
i will never forget you

until someone new comes around
He tried to spit out the truth;
Dry-mouthed at first,
He drooled and slobbered in the end;
Truth dribbling his chin.
All armies are the same
Publicity is fame
Artillery makes the same old noise
Valor is an attribute of boys
Old soldiers all have tired eyes
All soldiers hear the same old lies
Dead bodies always have drawn flies
By Joseph Childress

Sometimes, brainstorms
Are calming enough
The flower expected
Doesn't even have to blossom
The muddy water
Is a composition itself
Deep music waves
With Earth to keep you grounded
These wetlands
Can be depressing
Your impression
Becomes obvious
In the form of footprints
Imprints from bare feet
Rare feats are expected
But walking
When the rain storms
Is sometimes, calming enough
Heart in torment to weep
untold pain the soul doth keep
Unseen wounds ****** deep
loneliness a company in nights sleep
away from crowd the black sheep
Quivering lips
Teary eyes
Blotched face

All these, honey
Are symptoms
Of heartbreak
Having a Coke with You
is even more fun than going to San Sebastian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne
or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona
partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier St. Sebastian
partly because of my love for you, partly because of your love for yoghurt
partly because of the fluorescent orange tulips around the birches
partly because of the secrecy our smiles take on before people and statuary
it is hard to believe when I’m with you that there can be anything as still
as solemn as unpleasantly definitive as statuary when right in front of it
in the warm New York 4 o’clock light we are drifting back and forth
between each other like a tree breathing through its spectacles

and the portrait show seems to have no faces in it at all, just paint
you suddenly wonder why in the world anyone ever did them

I look
at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world
except possibly for the Polish Rider occasionally and anyway it’s in the Frick
which thank heavens you haven’t gone to yet so we can go together the first time
and the fact that you move so beautifully more or less takes care of Futurism
just as at home I never think of the **** Descending a Staircase or
at a rehearsal a single drawing of Leonardo or Michelangelo that used to wow me
and what good does all the research of the Impressionists do them
when they never got the right person to stand near the tree when the sun sank
or for that matter Marino Marini when he didn’t pick the rider as carefully
as the horse

it seems they were all cheated of some marvelous experience
which is not going to go wasted on me which is why I am telling you about it

by,
FRANK O'HARA
It is 3 am
I am so utterly alone
My head is spinning
with these thoughts
I am such a sad
lonely girl
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