on the table
old paperback
of first Leonard
Cohen poetry book
a half-full
carton of
orange juice
you asleep on the floor
Frank O'Hara
gives me
to speak of
these things
art     too much alcohol
Frank O'Hara drank a lot too
& it didn't kill him
(a dune buggy did)
typing in a roomful of friends
he had fun
but who's going to remember    if we
"B.O. really means
Black Out"
"& it stinks"
today you're driving toward his city
in early fall
after painting my arms with
watercolor love bites
to last a few weeks
in the stubble hungover afternoon
I recounted what happened to us
just hours before
usually I only do that in poems

-- Gwynne Garfinkle

An earlier version of this poem appeared in papertiger #1, and a spoken word version appears on Adam Marsland's CD You Don't Know Me (Karma Frog).