No. One need never leave the confines of New York to get all the greenery one wishes— I/can’t even enjoy a blade of grass unless I know there’s a subway handy, or a/record store or some other sign that people do not totally regret life. It is more important to affirm the least sincere. the clouds get enough attention as it is/and even they continue to pass. Do they know what they’re missing? Uh huh. 
—-Frank O’Hara, ”Meditations in an Emergency”
internetpoetry:

haiku by kanye west
c-u-p-i-d-b-o-y:

badbitchney:

Guess who survived.

Jessica

Given an airplane, chance
Encounters always ask, So what
Are your poems about? They’re about
Their business, and their father’s business, and their
Monkey’s uncle, they’re about

How nothing is about, they’re not
About about. This answer drive them
Back to the snack-tray every time.

Heather McHugh in “20/200 on 747”
GOD this gave me chills via PostSecret
the drive home (before it was) 
Siren by Amy Gerstler
yes
#selfie
James Tate
"Like water pouring from a pitcher, my mouth on your nipples" —Boris Pasternak (Wild Vines) 
How do mad trees act? —Oksana Zubuzhko (Letter from the Summer House)