relationships that go to make it up hum through his poetry; a scent of garbage, patchouli and carbon monoxide drifts across it, making it the lovely, corrupt, wholesome place New York is." O'Hara's poetry often has the feel of a late-night taxi ride through Manhattan in the company of a brilliant friend who is capable of pointing out the "ozone stalagmites/deposits of light" that make up the city's skyline.
from The Sunday Times: Frank O'Hara provides the poetry of Mad Men
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