It’s my lunch hour, so I go …
Frank O’Hara
It is 12:10 in New York and I am wondering …
Mothers of America …
The white chocolate jar full of petals …
My heart’s aflutter! …
Am I to become profligate as if I were a blonde? Or religious as if I were French? …
Now when I walk around at lunchtime …
When I am feeling depressed and anxious sullen …
At night Chinamen jump …
Krushchev is coming on the right day! …
Lana Turner has collapsed! …
The eager note on my door said “Call me, …
It is 12:20 in New York a Friday …
I wanted to be sure to reach you; …