1 <br />My heart's aflutter! <br />I am standing in the bath tub <br />crying. Mother, mother <br />who am I? If he <br />will just come back once <br />and kiss me on the face <br />his coarse hair brush <br />my temple, it's throbbing! <br /> <br />then I can put on my clothes <br />I guess, and walk the streets. <br /> <br />2 <br />I love you. I love you, <br />but I'm turning to my verses <br />and my heart is closing <br />like a fist. <br /> <br />Words! be <br />sick as I am sick, swoon, <br />roll back your eyes, a pool, <br /> <br />and I'll stare down <br />at my wounded beauty <br />which at best is only a talent <br />for poetry. <br /> <br />Cannot please, cannot charm or win <br />what a poet! <br />and the clear water is thick <br /> <br />with bloody blows on its head. <br />I embrace a cloud, <br />but when I soared <br />it rained. <br /> <br />3 <br />That's funny! there's blood on my chest <br />oh yes, I've been carrying bricks <br />what a funny place to rupture! <br />and now it is raining on the ailanthus <br />as I step out onto the window ledge <br />the tracks below me are smoky and <br />glistening with a passion for running <br />I leap into the leaves, green like the sea <br /> <br />4 <br />Now I am quietly waiting for <br />the catastrophe of my personality <br />to seem beautiful again, <br />and interesting, and modern. <br /> <br />The country is grey and <br />brown and white in trees, <br />snows and skies of laughter <br />always diminishing, less funny <br />not just darker, not just grey. <br /> <br />It may be the coldest day of <br />the year, what does he think of <br />that? I mean, what do I? And if I do, <br />perhaps I am myself again.<br /><br />Frank O'Hara<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mayakovsky/
