#AmericanWriters
They don’t make it the beautiful die in flame— suicide pills, rat poison, rope wh… ever... they rip their arms off,
at one stage in my life I met a man who claimed to have visited Pound at St. Elizabeths. then I met a woman who not only claimed to have visited
a girlfriend came in built me a bed scrubbed and waxed the kitchen flo… scrubbed the walls vacuumed
I still get letters in the mail, m… men in tiny rooms with factory job… living with whores or no woman at… booze and madness. Most of their letters are on lined…
self-congratulatory nonsense as th… famous gather to applaud their see… greatness you wonder where
waiting for death like a cat that will jump on the bed I am so very sorry for
I been readin’ you for a long time… I just put Billy Boy to bed, he got 7 mean ticks from somewhere… I got 2, my husband, Benny, he got 3.
I was always a natural slob I liked to lay upon the bed in undershirt (stained, of course) (and with cigarette holes)
I’ve come by, she says, to tell yo… that this is it. I’m not kidding,… over. this is it. I sit on the couch watching her ar… her long red hair before my bedroo…
I read last Saturday in the redwoods outside of Santa Cruz and I was about 3/4's finished when I heard a long high scream and a quite attractive
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
here they come these guys grey truck radio playing they are in a hurry
“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.
by God, I don’t know what to do. they’re so nice to have around. they have a way of playing with the balls
you won’t see them often for wherever the crowd is they are not. those odd ones, not
