It will have to be dinner.
The overhead lights
Bother my eyes as I take
Myself a seat
But there’s no moving now
The frost comes and I realize
I am not in the state of mind for lunch today anyway

Buttoning my coat up
Crooked. Realize I am missing another one.
Two buttons in one week.
Mind if I borrow your ear?
Should I go with the sail boat
Or the maple leaf?
What will you pick if
All your green threads fail…?
You still have your dreams…

Week of meals with Frank O’Hara: