#AmericanWriters
drunk on the dark streets of some… it’s night, you’re lost, where’s y… room? you enter a bar to find yourself, order scotch and water.
I can’t have it and you can’t have it and we won’t get it so don’t bet on it
the dream of a man is a whore with a gold tooth and a garter belt, perfumed with false eyebrows
It’s never quite right, he said, t… the way the music sounds, the way… written. It’s never quite right, he said, a… taught, all the loves we chase, al…
August 12, 1986 Hello John: Thanks for the good letter. I don… You know my old saying, “Slavery… And what hurts is the steadily dim…
self-congratulatory nonsense as th… famous gather to applaud their see… greatness you wonder where
out of the arm of one love and into the arms of another I have been saved from dying on th… by a lady who smokes pot writes songs and stories
they talk down through the centuries to us, and this we need more and more, the statues and paintings in midnight age
having the low down blues and goin… into a restraunt to eat. you sit at a table. the waitress smiles at you. she’s dumpy. her ass is too big.
Long walks at night— that’s what good for the soul: peeking into windows watching tired housewives trying to fight off
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 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
some say we should keep personal r… poem, stay abstract, and there is some r… but jezus; twelve poems gone and I don’t keep…
the best often die by their own ha… just to get away, and those left behind can never quite understand why anybody
she’s young, she said, but look at me, I have pretty ankles, and look at my wrists, I have pret… wrists