#AmericanWriters
It was noon the next day when the phone rang. It was Lydia again. I heard a long insane wail like a wolverine shot in the arctic snow and left to bleed and die alone. . . . I slept most...
I hear them outside: “does he always type this late?” “no, it’s very unusual.” “he shouldn’t type this
swans die in the Spring too and there it floated dead on a Sunday sideways circling in the current
Tony phoned and told me that Jan had left him but that he was a… helped him he said to think about… like D. H. Lawrence pissed off with life in general bu…
he hooked to the body hard took it well and loved to fight had seven in a row and a small fle… over one eye,
she writes continually like a long nozzle spraying the air,
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
had it for a year, really put in lot of bedroom time, slept upright on two pillows to keep from coughing, all the blood drained from my head
the flesh covers the bone and they put a mind in there and sometimes a soul, and the women break
we are gathered here now to bury her in this poem. she did not marry an unemployed wi… beat her every
Graduation Day. We filed in with our caps and gowns to “Pomp and Circumstance.” I suppose that in our three years we must have learned something. Our ability to spell had probably impro...
they’re not going to let you sit at a front table at some cafe in Europe in the mid-afternoon sun. you do, somebody’s going to
I used to take the back off the telephone and stuff it with ra… and when somebody knocked I wouldn’t answer and if they pers… I’d tell them in terms vulgar
a symphony orchestra. there is a thunderstorm, they are playing a Wagner overture and the people leave their seats u… and run inside to the pavilion
I have a saying, “the tough ones a… back.” but Vera was kinder than most, and so I was surprised when she arrived that night