Animals

Two close friends have passed away in the past two days, and it's got me a little shaken. The following is a poem by Frank O'Hara entitled "Animals" that I'd like to dedicate to the both of them. You will be greatly missed.

ANIMALS


Have you forgotten what we were like then
when we were still first rate
and the day came fat with an apple in its mouth

it's no use worrying about Time
but we did have a few tricks up our sleeves
and turned some sharp corners

the whole pasture looked like our meal
we didn't need speedometers
we could manage cocktails out of ice and water

I wouldn't want to be faster
or greener than now if you were with me O you
were the best of all my days


[1950]

Hipster Gambino

This whole "only taking 9 hours" thing has given me a lot of availability this semester. Instead of being super involved and productive, though, I spend a good amount of time on the internet. This morning, via a long, convoluted chain of events, I found a website that combines two of my favorite things: hipsters and Donald Glover. Well, actually it's Donald Glover's rapping alter-ego, Childish Gambino, but it's great none-the-less. I haven't listened to much of his rap as of yet (that will probably change in the next couple of hours), but his stand up is hilarious, as is his acting on Community. And, if you know me at all, you'll know I'm absolutely fascinated by everything hip and can be heard saying, "Hip, hip, hip hiphiphip," whilst walking past Manhattan Cafe and Max, the bar formerly known as The Max Canada. Clearly, I'm not hip as I have a blogspot instead of a tumblr, but that does not detract from my love of hipness. Moving on, the blog is called Hipster Childish Gambino and it combines pictures of hipsters with Childish Gambino lyrics and generally just makes me giggle. Also, the girl that writes it is apparently from Alabama just like me, so I think we're probably going to be friends.

New York, New York

To quote my friends, "It's all happening." In a few months I will be a proud resident of that great metropolis so disparaged by cowboys and so esteemed by hopeful immigrants, New York City. What am I going to do up there, you may ask. I have no idea. Where am I going to live? Not entirely certain of that either. But I'm 22, and if I can't embrace uncertainty right now, when can I?
All this talk of the big move sent me back to some of my favorite poets, the so-called New York School, especially Frank O'Hara and Ted Berrigan. I don't know if it's their respective styles, their subject-matter, their words, or my post-adolescent idealism, but few poets have ever meant more to me than these guys. It was as I was reading over some of my favorite poems that I noticed a huge injustice has been dealt to Mr. Berrigan. His short poem "Things to do in New York City" is almost impossible to find on the internet, a huge problem when you're looking for advice on just that topic. It's as if the internet gods have decided that this beautiful piece of writing isn't worthy of their hallowed domains. So, I shall here right this egregious injustice with a transcription of said poem.
"Things to do in New York City"
for Peter Schjeldahl

Wake up high up
frame bent & turned on
Moving slowly &
by the numbers
light cigarette
Dress in basic black
& reading a lovely old man's book

BY THE WATERS OF MANHATTAN

change

flashback

play cribbage on the Williamsburg Bridge
watching the boats sail by
the sun, like a monument,
move slowly up the sky
above the bloody rush

break yr legs & break yr heart
kiss the girls & make them cry
loving the gods & seeing them die

celebrate your own
& everyone else's birth:

Make friends forever
& go away.


To hear some more of Ted Berrigan's poems (including this one) go here.
To read some of Frank O'Hara's go here, to listen go here. I recommend "A True Account of Talking to the Sun at Fire Island."

Well, that's all I have to say for now, and so I say adieu.
Listen to this great song that's greatly at odds with the rest of this post!
"West Coast", by Coconut Records