I know so much
about things, I accept
so much, it’s like
vomiting. And I am
nourished by the
shabbiness of my
knowing so much
about others and what
they do, and accepting
so much that I hate
as if I didn’t know
what it is, to me.
And what it is to
them I know, and hate.
Spleen
Analysis, meaning and summary of Frank O'Hara's poem Spleen
Do you have any comments, criticism, paraphrasis or analysis of this poem that you feel would assist other visitors in understanding the meaning or the theme of this poem by Frank O'Hara better? If accepted, your analysis will be added to this page of American Poems. Together we can build a wealth of information, but it will take some discipline and determination.
