#AmericanWriters
the branches break, the birds fall… the whores stand straight, the bombs stack, evening, morning, night, peanutbutter,
big black beard tells me that I don’t feel terror I look at him
he’s 17 . mother, he said, how do I crack an egg? all right, she said to me, you don… sit there looking like that.
I have been hanging here headless for so long that the body has forgotten
I paid this one’s fare all the way… to San Francisco then flew up to meet her at her br… and I got drunk and talked all night about a redhe…
crud, he said, hauling it out of the water, what is it? a Hollow-Back June Whale, I said… no, said a guy standing by us on t…
good weather is like good women— it doesn’t always happen and when it does
Lydia and I were always fighting. She was a flirt and it irritated me. When we ate out I was sure she was eyeballing some man across the room. When my male friends came by to visit and ...
I had been corresponding with a lady in San Francisco for several months. Her name was Liza Weston and she survived by giving dance lessons, including ballet, in her own studio. She was...
One day I was at the bar between races and I saw this woman. God or somebody keeps creating women and tossing them out on the streets, and this one’s ass is too big and that one’s tits ...
I used to know a dutchman in a Ph… he’d take 3 raw eggs in his beer, 71, still working, strong,
sometimes I forget about him and h… innocence, almost idiotic, awkward… he liked walking over bridges and… to night I think about him, the wa… one felt space between his lines,…
the acute and terrible air hangs w… as summer birds mingle in the bran… and warble and mystify the clamor of the mind… an old parrot
3 small boys run toward me blowing whistles and they scream you’re under arrest! you’re drunk!
eating cold plums in bed she told me about the German who owned everything on the block except the custom drapery shop and he tried to buy