I think you’re wonderful and so does everyone else.
You will meet a tall beautiful blonde stranger, and you will not say hello.
You will take a long trip and you will be very happy, though alone.
You will marry the first person who tells you your eyes are like scrambled eggs.
I realize you’ve lived in France, but that doesn’t mean you know EVERYTHING!
In the beginning there was YOU—there will always be YOU, I guess.
You will write a great play and it will run for three performances.
Please phone The Village Voice immediately: they want to interview you.
Your first volume of poetry will be published as soon as you finish it.
You may be a hit uptown, but downtown you’re legendary!
Your walk has a musical quality which will bring you fame and fortune.
A few dance lessons with James Waring and who knows? Maybe something will happen.
That’s not a run in your stocking, it’s a hand on your leg.
You should wear white more often—it becomes you.
The next person to speak to you will have a very intriquing proposal to make.
A lot of people in this room wish they were you.
At times, your disinterestedness may seem insincere, to strangers.
You are a prisoner in a croissant factory and you love it.
You eat meat. Why do you eat meat?
Beyond the horizon there is a vale of gloom.
You too could be Premier of France, if only … if only…
- Frank O’Hara
"The voices heard on modern laugh tracks [are] often the same original voices recorded during pre-ancient radio shows like Burns and Allen, which would mean that the sound we hear on laugh tracks is often the sound of dead people laughing.”