I don’t know anything about painters or photographers or theatre. Here’s how I fell in love with poetry
Like most great love stories in 2019, it began with a picture on Instagram. One idle Saturday I was scrolling through the app while avoiding being a functioning member of society, when I saw a beige tile with typewriter-style words on it:
Now I am quietly waiting for
the catastrophe of my personality
to seem beautiful again,
and interesting, and modern.
Related: From John Keats to Nick Cave: poems for every stage in life
I don’t think Frank O’Hara would think it was silly that I discovered his work on a social media app
I have been to lots of parties
and acted perfectly disgraceful
but I never actually collapsed
oh Lana Turner we love you get up
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