Orange Rose
October twelfth nineteen ninety-six
Traditional Columbus Day
Taking photos on the steps
Albright Knox Art Gallery
Rockwell Hall – Alma mater
On top his shoulders risqué kicks
Traditional pose? No way
Toasting in high spirits affects
Memory: Orange rose fallacy
A mere seventeen years later
NaPoWriMo Prompt – Today’s prompt is to write a “New York School” poem using the recipe found here. The New York School is the name by which a group of poets that all lived in New York in the 1950s and 1960s. The most well-known members are Frank O’Hara, John Ashbery, and Kenneth Koch. Their poems are actually very different from one another, but many “New York School” poems display a sort of conversational tone, references to friends and to places in and around New York, humor, inclusion of pop culture, and a sense of the importance of art (visual, poetic, and otherwise).
Yesterday my wonderful husband brought home a bouquet of orange roses. His wife gave him undeserved credit. I thought he was being romantic; I had orange roses in my wedding bouquet. Wow, our wedding roses! 😀 He looked at me as if I were alien. No, I didn’t like the tulips. He likes orange roses. Hmm… I wonder if there’s a reason for his preference. So I was thinking about my wedding even though my anniversary is six months away. And despite the common fallacy, there’s more to New York than the city. My poem today has Buffalo, NY references. I write what I know.
Hosking's Blog 
Oh my, that picture is funny! Hmm…New York. I have to say I like the explanation as a part of the poem. And I love the roses!
Thank you. Yeah I went to New York School. 😉 There are so many ingredients you can add to New York School poetry. I hope my hodgepodge did it justice.
I remember doing a New York Scholol last year. (says me form ‘downunder’. I googled the shows etc that were on in New York at the time and who was playing in them. Hey, I think it was last year but it could have been 2 or more years ago because I remember locally ‘Chicago’ was being put on, the most wonderful production and our choir masters’ daughter played the narrator and she swing rope high across the stage and stunningly made up leered down on the audience. She’d trained as a clown. Anyway she waited til it was all over and then told her family she was 3 months pregnant. That’s one of the reason I never forget New York school. In my flower poem I was thrilled to see your orange roses. My granddaughter had a band of them across her head as a bride last Oct. – my poem for today. Loved your photographs and poem. Now to read again.