Wednesday, October 28, 2015
"My quietness has a number of naked selves…"
Before New York had Kathy Acker (1947-1990), it had Frank O'Hara (1926-1966), a poet who worked at the MOMA and, though he lacked Acker's audacity, actually knew something about art and its history.
From the opening two stanzas of his 1956 long poem "In Memory of My Feelings":
My quietness has a man in it, he is transparent
and he carries me quietly, like a gondola, through the streets.
He has several likenesses, like stars and years, like numerals.
My quietness has a number of naked selves,
so many pistols I have borrowed to protect myselves
from creatures who too readily recognize my weapons
and have murder in their heart!