There was a long period of my life when I idolized Frank O'Hara, but I haven't really thought about him in a long time. This morning I woke up super early and couldn't fall back asleep, and as I was in bed watching the early sunlight through my window, his poem "For Grace, After a Party" (which is probably my favorite poem and which I've posted here before) popped into my head. The opening line just kept running through my head, over and over: "You do not always know what I am feeling. You do not always know what I am feeling. You do not always know what I am feeling."
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