New. York.

I had a conversation with my boyfriend yesterday about how I veil my blog in secrecy... either you know me because I gave you my blog, but if I didn't you don't really know much about me. How much do I really want to share? I constantly ask myself this question when I write. And, I never have an answer.

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Also two things that get me pumped when I'm down in preparation for NYC.

a)

b)Frank O'Hara. I've been reading a ton of Frank. A TON. He's really gifted, illuminating the everyday and his words flow very ironically into one another.

Frank O'Hara

SONG

I'm going to New York!

(what a lark! what a song!)

where the tough Rocky's eaves

hit the sea. Where th'Acro-

polis is functional, the trains

that run and shout! the books

that have trousers and sleeves!

I'm going to New York!

(quel voyage! jamais plus!)

far from Ypsilanti and Flint!

where Goodman rules the Empire

and the sunlight's eschato-

logy upon the wizard's bridges

and the galleries of print!

I'm going to New York!

(to my friends! mes semblables!)

I suppose I'll walk back West.

But for now I'm gone forever!

the city's hung with flashlights!

the Ferry's unbuttoning its vest!

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Plug, my very talented friend who is also a gifted writer, has finally (!!!) started a blog:

http://thesilkfist.blogspot.com/