I am thinking of Frank O’Hara as I walk wearing my mask through the empty middleOf our village, how in his poems he seems always strolling down a street like this one, only better,Shopping—usually buying gifts. He’s on his way to the sort of party to which I’ll neverBe invited, where the radical painters and poets of Greenwich Village swill stiff martinis,Saying Thanks, Frank! when he passes out the treasures he’s assembled. Here,I could buy a rickety folding chair, or a stone lawn pig, or a box of Scottish shortbreadIf any of the stores were open. Frank always found the most amazing, perfect things,An Obscure but Deeply Important Book of Poems in Translation from a Distant Country,A Bottle of Hallucinogenic Brandy aged in an Amethyst Cask, a Signed First EditionOf the Old Testament. This was before anyone knew about Fire Island, and FrankKnocked flat, dead on the beach, wiped out by an ignorant, poetry-hating dune buggy. No wonderPeople back then loved it when Frank came to dinner. I don’t even go to dinner any more,I’ve almost forgotten what dinner is. I don’t hang out at jazz clubs either–there’s not one openFor a thousand miles. And isn’t the problem not being in Greenwich Village, on Great Jones Street in the 1950sWhere every corner has a newspaper machine and you can read the headlines without evenSpending a nickel to buy the paper: someone famous has collapsed, someone you worshipped has died.Just walking around like this, you could come to grief so quickly your heartbeat dissolves, even thoughAlmost everyone you really care about–almost everyone–is eating foie gras and digging the music,Unwrapping their gifts and thanking Frank in that weird, vanished America, all perfectly happy.

中文翻译：

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来世购物

当我戴着面具戴着面具穿过我们空旷的村庄时，我想到的是弗兰克·奥哈拉（Frank O'Hara），在他的诗中，他似乎总是沿着这样的街道漫步，只有更好的购物，通常是买礼物。他正在参加我永远不会被邀请参加的那种聚会，格林威治村的激进画家和诗人在那儿挥舞着僵硬的马提尼酒，谢谢，弗兰克！当他散发出宝藏时，他就将其组装起来。在这里，我可以买摇摇欲坠的折叠椅，或一头石草坪猪，或一盒苏格兰脆饼（如果有一家商店开着的话）。弗兰克（Frank）总是找到最神奇，最完美的东西，一本遥远的国家翻译起来的一本晦涩却非常重要的诗集，一瓶装在紫水晶酒桶中的致幻白兰地，这是旧约的签名第一版。在此之前，还没有人知道火岛，FrankKnocked的公寓死在沙滩上，被一个愚昧无聊，讨厌诗歌的沙丘越野车所淹没。怪不得弗兰克晚宴时人们喜欢它。我什至不去吃晚饭了，我几乎忘记了什么晚饭。我也不在爵士俱乐部里闲逛-一千英里没有人开放。而且不是不是不在格林威治村的问题，