Jackson Pollock,Number One, 1948
Digression On Number 1,1948
I am ill today but I am not
too ill. I am not ill at all.
It is a perfect day, warm
for winter, cold for fall.
A fine day for seeing. I see
ceramics, during lunch hour, by
Mir6, and I see the sea by Leger;
light, complicated Metzingers
and a rude awakening by Brauner,
a little table by Picasso, pink.
I am tired today but I am not
too tired. I am not tired at all.
There is the Pollock, white, harm
will not fall, his perfect hand
and the many short voyages. They'll
never fence the silver range.
Stars are out and there is sea
enough beneath the glistening earth
to bear me toward the future
which is not so dark. I see.
Frank O'Hara
*Hoje no Facebook alguém me mostrou um excerto de um episódio de Mad Men, em que Don Draper lê um poema de Frank O'Hara. Deste poeta lembrava-me deste Digression...., a partir do quadro que acima se vê. Uma coisa levou à outra. Oh Facebook, maldito sejas, quem quer «amigos» que não são reais blablablabla....Bullshit.
