#Americans #XXCentury #1977 #LoveIsADogFromHell
dying has its rough edge. no escaping now. the warden has his eye on me. his bad eye. I’m doing hard time now.
The next time you listen to Borod… remember he was just a chemist who wrote music to relax; his house was jammed with peor e: students, artists, drunkards, bur…
Lydia met me at the airport. She was horny as usual. “Jesus Christ,” she said. “I’m hot! I play with myself but it doesn’t do any good.” “Lydia, my leg is still in terrible shape. I jus...
After dinner we came back and we talked. She was a health food addict and didn’t eat meat except for chicken and fish. It certainly worked for her. “Hank,” she said, “tomorrow I’m going...
The next day I sat in the hall in my green tin chair, waiting to be called. Across from me sat a man who had something wrong with his nose. It was very red and very raw and very fat and...
in grievous deity my cat walks around he walks around and around with electric tail and
So I took the exam, passed it, took the physical, passed it, and there I was—a substitute mail carrier. It began easy. I was sent to West Avon Station and it was just like Christmas exc...
at the window I watch a man with a power mower the sounds of his doing race like flies and bees
I’m not going to die easy; I’ve sat on your suicide beds in some of the worst holes in America,
he sat naked and drunk in a room o… night, running the blade of the kn… under his fingernails, smiling, th… of all the letters he had received telling him that
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 found a room on Temple Street in the Filipino district. It was $3.50 a week, upstairs on the second floor. I paid the landlady—a middle-aged blond—a week’s rent. The toilet and tub we...
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
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
I sat in the airport and waited. You never knew about photos. You could never tell. I was nervous. I felt like vomiting. I lit a cigarette and gagged. Why did I do these things? I didn’...