Cannot forgive myself for not knowing
where I was on the day Frank O’Hara
died “Do what you want, but don’t get hurt,” his
father told him. I get a little Ver-
laine for Patsy
feel the dust in the back
of my throat “Take my watch, it’s always fast,
cram more life into your day.” Grace to be
born with that wit that gift for friendship for
poetry to live more variously
Slow sobs of autumn played on violins
a library of crystal tears Cribbage
into the early hours Patsy asleep
in my arms : so silent I hear the thump
of her heart
she’s out cold to the sadness
John Lyons
johnjosephlyons 