Washington Park

WASHINGTON PARK

With Thoughts of the Poetry
of Frank O’Hara  

1.
Banners in the June sun exhort
me: Celebrate Washington Park---
a design of green, ringed in red with
brick row houses under a light blue

sky. So, I exalt the big canopy beeches
with amputated arms and wings like
bats, oaks---solid and heavy with hair
like Medusa, gnarled old maples,

knuckles full of arthritis. I exalt the
locusts with trunks like barber poles,
and the ‘tree of heaven’ with its ancient
warts and angel wings at the end of its

branches, flying among the star-like
leaves of a nearby sweet gum tree.

2.
I Celebrate Washington Park and
applaud Albany’s lunch hour ladies
who trade office shoes for sneakers
to stride among mid-day joggers.

Silently, I cheer on the old guys, half
bent over, chatting airily with each
other, while they admire the young
women---quiet and serious in their

runner’s ritual, coursing among men
with ties and i.d. badges.  I cheer on a
stiff---armed blond with a  capacious
behind under a flowered dress.

Should I extol the wannabe beauty
as she appraises the boys with their
big bounding dogs? A cigarette hangs
from her painted mouth like an arrow

in a bulls eye. Sure, why not?! I
commend the Albany cops keeping a
relaxed watch over playground kids,
and praise the little black girl gliding

off with dad on training wheels down
a beaten path---heading somewhere
into tomorrow. Here's praying all goes
well on your journey of life. Be safe.

3.
Here at midday in Washington Park,
space and time stop stretching, every
thing holds back for an hour or two.
Even the statue of Robert Burns, with

his floppy hat in hand and fat finger
marking a book, comes alive---a
bemused smile on his blackened-
bronze face as he watches the traffic

flow beyond neatly laid rose beds.
At noon space and time stop stretching
so a quiet man can sit against the trunk
of a towering tree, its leaves shading his

thoughts from the heat of the sun, while
a bare-chested fellow with a pony tail
greedily soaks in its rays through a haze
of cigarette smoke. Everything waits as

two women sit at a picnic table peering
through photos like CIA analysts, while,
nearby, a haggard gray haired joe in a
dirty baseball cap reads a newspaper

and picks his nose. Everything waits
until I greet an oncoming giant with a
“how are ya?” and he looks up with a
sudden smile and proclaims,

Considering this beautiful day---I
would say, definitely, I’m doing good!

                -- Albany, NY 2006

Author's Note

Frank O'Hara was known for his "I do this, I do that" poetry as he wandered around NYC
on his lunch hours back in 1950's. I wrote this poem about my wanderings as my wife was receiving treatments for her MD in the hospital.

Reviews

[Eilis]

I love the fullness of this--the imagery and action. It's like nature watching, but we are watching civilization which has its own nature which is separate from those things which just are. The intricacies of all of this. The way so many people are inhabiting the same space but going about their business separately. It's like a book of short stories that is only beginning.

When I saw your title I thought of the Henry James book with the same name, and was interested to see if that figured in the poem. So, I was pleasantly surprised to join you for an afternoon of people watching and celebrating the everydayness of life.

I enjoy Frank O'Hara's work. My favorite poem by him is To the Harbormaster. I felt like you captured his spirit in this poem with the language and descriptions you chose. You steered away from the flowery and rested in the more angular language. I particularly enjoyed your descriptions of the trees in part one.

This is probably one of my favorite poems of yours I've read, Tom. Great work.

[kentuck14]

E,
Much appreciate this review. Jame's book was called Washington Square . . . sorry for correcting you . . . that's not nice on my part. Especially after praising this piece so . . . Spent a number of mid-days in this park in upstate NY. It is a very pleasant park to visit. Glad the tree intro pleased you . . . it was nice that the trees were marked with their names . . . made writing this poem easier. Yet I'm amazed at the variety of trees in the South . . . ones you'd never see up in the north. All the best . . . may you and your family have a happy thanksgiving.
T

[Eilis]

I don’t mind being corrected, Tom, haha. I’m pretty good at making mistakes. Thanks for pointing that out. I hope you and your family have a wonderful holiday as well. Best.

[NotUsinganymore]

Interesting poem about a city park. I've been to New York twice but I barely remember it.

[kentuck14]

Thanks JL . . . Albany is the state capital of New York State. Lives near there in 2006.
T

[Crowley]

Oh wow...this is so cool. I read this guy a bit back and was amazed by his style. This is a fitting tribute to the style with plenty of you flowing through it. You know I love these slices of life, the reality, the remembrance, the vitality. This was just what I needed this afternoon. wonderful stuff.

[kentuck14]

C,
Glad it helped make your day my friend! I think Ohara's poetry was spotty . . . just read his "Lunch Poems" from City Lights Books.
T