Saturday Night I Stayed Up Late with Frank O’Hara, A Bad Influence.

My dad and I go to breakfast every Sunday at 7:30 A.M., regardless of how much or how little sleep either of us has had the night before. Last night, I had not much, I must confess. (I did get a chance to revise that dead whale poem yesterday, in between school work and tending to the quotidian.)

This morning it was cloudy and swollen, so we went to Smitty’s/The Breakfast Shop in Somers Point.

While trying to rouse myself awake, I just stared down at the table for awhile…

And out the jalousie windows…

By the time our omelettes were eaten, I was more awake.

To think, it only took four cups of coffee!!!!

This afternoon I went for a quick walk on the boardwalk. The world felt a bit tense, or maybe that was just me, the weight of so many ungraded papers waiting like a stern partner at home.

The papers will still be there later on. Look at all of this world there is out here ––

I eventually took the alley back to my flat to brew-up some P.G. Tips.

Only five more papers to grade now from this one class. Then I might grant myself a reprieve the rest of the night.

Until tomorrow, least.

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3 Responses to Saturday Night I Stayed Up Late with Frank O’Hara, A Bad Influence.

  1. rachalina says:

    I talked to Effie on the phone for an hour and a half last night. Alas, no Smitty’s for me this morning.

    (sad face.)

  2. robbie. says:

    that table covering is enough to wake anyone up!

  3. Pingback: All Summer Breakfast, Act I | rarlington

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