#AmericanWriters
no way back to Barcelona. the green soldiers have invaded th… madmen rule Spain and during a heat wave in 1952 I b… no way back to the Rock of Gibral…
of late I’ve had this thought that this country has gone backwards or 5 de cades
Lila Jane was a girl my age who lived next door. I still wasn’t allowed to play with the children in the neighborhood, but sitting in the bedroom often got dull. I would go out and walk...
I read a book about John Dos Pas… the book once radical—communist John ended up in the Hollywood Hi… and reading the Wall Street Journal
After 3 years I made “regular.” That meant holiday pay (subs didn’t get paid for holidays) and a 40 hour week with 2 days off. The Stone was also forced to assign me as relief man to 5 ...
in the men’s room at the track this boy of about 7 or 8 years old came out of a stall
At Mt. Justin, biology class was neat. We had Mr. Stanhope for our teacher. He was an old guy about 55 and we pretty much dominated him. Lilly Fischman was in the class and she was real...
unaccountably we are alone forever alone and it was meant to be that way, was never meant
the lady has me temporarily off th… and now the pecker stands up better. however, things change overnight— instead of listening to Shostakovi…
I am watching a girl dressed in a light green sweater, blue shorts,… there is a necklace of some sort but her breasts are small, poor th… and she watches her nails
it’s strange when famous people di… whether they have fought the good… the bad one. it’s strange when famous people di… whether we like them or not
yes, they begin out in a willow, I… the starch mountains begin out in… and keep right on going without re… pumas and nectarines somehow these mountains are like
the droll noon where squadrons of worms creep up like stripteasers to be raped by blackbirds. I go outside
watch you walking with your machin… ah, you’re too stupid to be cut li… you’re too stupid to let anything… the girls won’t use their knives o… they don’t want to
if I suffer at this typewriter think how I’d feel among the lettuce-pickers of Salinas?