As seen through O'Hara's eyes, the world is a convocation of lies. He creates a potent metaphor for this in How to Get There, with the snowy fog that engulfs the city. The cold- and the hail, sleet, rain, mist and snow that accompany it - is a recurring motif in this collection. Inevitably it is associated with pain, ennui, and discontent. It takes on a horror film quality in this poem, infiltrating and stalking.
Lunch Poems