Lunch Poems by Frank O’Hara: 1. Music

    “I am naked as a tablecloth, my nerves humming”   I walk up and down Tottenham Court Road finding lunch options slim. I discover when I arrive at a usually dependable last resort lunch spot that the whole shop has been gutted, emptied, even the sign taken off the outside. Peering inside, IContinue reading “Lunch Poems by Frank O’Hara: 1. Music”