#AmericanWriters
sitting with the professors we talk about Allen Tate and John Crow Ransom the rugs are clean and the coffeetables shine
Joyce found a job with the county, the county Police Department, of all things. I was living with a cop! But at least it was during the day, which gave me a little rest from those fondl...
the final curtain on one of the lo… musicals ever, some people claim t… seen it over one hundred times. I saw it on the tv news, that fina… flowers, cheers, tears, a thundero…
we are gathered here now to bury her in this poem. she did not marry an unemployed wi… beat her every
looking out the window smoking rolled cigarettes drinking Sanka and watching the workers come on in
There were continual fights. The teachers didn’t seem to know anything about them. And there was always trouble when it rained. Any boy who brought an umbrella to school or wore a rainc...
the dead dogs of nowhere bark as you approach another traffic accident. cars one standing on its
the bulls are grand as the side of… and although they kill them for th… it is the bull that burns the fire… and although there are cowardly bu… there are cowardly matadors and co…
One night I was coming around the corner after sneaking down to the cafeteria for a pack of smokes. And there was a face I knew. It was Tom Moto! The guy I had subbed with under The Sto...
The jew bent over and died. 99 machine guns were shipped to France. somebody w… while I inspected the propeller of an old monoplane
schoolgirls in pantyhose sitting on bus stop benches looking tired at 13 with their raspberry lipstick. it’s hot in the sun
my mother knocked on my rooming-ho… and came in looked in the dresser drawer: Henry you don’t have any clean stockings?
Making love in the sun, in the mor… in a hotel room above the alley where poor men poke for bottles; making love in the sun
if you’re a man, Los Angeles is w… battle; or if you’re a woman, and… the rest, you sail it against a mo… when you grow grey you can hide in… in a mansion so nobody can see how…
Phillipe ’s is an old time cafe off Alameda street just a little north and east of the main post office. Phillipe’s opens at 5 a.m.