#AmericanWriters
my grandmother had a serious gas problem. we only saw her on Sunday. she’d sit down to dinner and she’d have gas.
there’s a bluebird in my heart tha… wants to get out but I’m too tough for him, I say, stay in there, I’m not goi… to let anybody see
“you know,” she said, “you were at the bar so you didn’t see but I danced with this guy. we danced and we danced close.
shot in the eye shot in the brain shot in the ass shot like a flower in the dance amazing how death wins hands down
the German hotel was very strange… double doors to the rooms, very th… looked the park and the vasser ter… it was usually too late for breakf… would be everywhere changing sheet…
and the sun wields mercy but like a jet torch carried to hi… and the jets whip across its sight and rockets leap like toads, and the boys get out the maps
this fear of being what they are: dead. at least they are not out on the s… are careful to stay indoors, those pasty mad who sit alone before the…
I have lain in bed all day but I have written one poem and I am up now looking out the window and like a novelist might say
he was 65, his wife was 66, had Alzheimer’s disease. he had cancer of the mouth. there were
never even in calmer times have I ever dreamed of bicycling through that
Go to Tibet. Ride a camel. Read the Bible. Dye your shoes blue. Grow a Beard.
I got in the shower and burned my balls last Wednesday. met this painter called Spain, no, he was a cartoonist,
a girlfriend came in built me a bed scrubbed and waxed the kitchen flo… scrubbed the walls vacuumed
when Whitman wrote, “I sing the b… I know what he meant I know what he wanted:
often it is the only thing between you and impossibility. no drink,