that's funny! there's blood on my chest
oh yes, i've been carrying bricks
what a funny place to rupture!
and now it is raining on the ailanthus
as i step out onto the window ledge
the tracks below me are smoky and
glistening with a passion for running
i leap into the leaves, green like the sea.
now i am quietly waiting for
the catastrophe of my personality
to seem beautiful again,
and interesting, and modern.
the country is grey and
brown and white in trees,
snows and skies of laughter
always diminishing, less funny
not just darker, not just grey.
it may be the coldest day of
the year, what does he think of
that? i mean, what do i? and if i do,
perhaps i am myself again.
- - "Mayakovsky" by Frank O'Hara