I love you.
—Frank O’Hara
It seems I forgot how to mean
something. Let’s go camping.
Let’s be silly but not juvenile.
Let’s noodle under the elms
and watch Hitchcock’s latest.
But wait.
No?
Four years of Wednesdays. That’s
what he thinks of me. It was all
one red herring after another. Well,
there’s more than one way to skin a
cat. And how.
Some days there’s these amazing...
I’m sure he’s not got much
up in the old attic, but I love
to watch him stagger around.
(See how he grimaces
with ecstasy?)
My palm-reader says a trendy
restaurant will be gone soon.
Note to self: Oh, to kiss (but not that)!
“You make no sense
can we be boyfriends?”
There I go again with the orange walls.
Sucker!
