23 noviembre 2008


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.

Supongo que como mucha otra gente poco leída, debo a ese hallazgo que es Mad Men haber hecho ese otro hallazgo que es Frank O'hara.

0 comentarios: