#AmericanWriters
I’m not going to cry all the time nor shall I laugh all the time, I don’t prefer one “strain” to ano… I’d have the immediacy of a bad mo… not just a sleeper, but also the b…
The eager note on my door said “C… call when you get in!" so I quickl… a few tangerines into my overnight… straightened my eyelids and should… headed straight for the door. It…
You do not always know what I am… Last night in the warm spring air… blazing my tirade against someone… interest me, it was love for you that set m…
I think you’re wonderful and so do… Just as Jackie Kennedy has a baby… You will meet a tall beautiful blo… You will take a long trip and you… You will marry the first person wh…
It is 12:20 in New York a Friday three days after Bastille day, yes it is 1959 and I go get a shoeshin… because I will get off the 4:19 in… at 7:15 and then go straight to di…
515 Madison Avenue door to heaven? portal stopped realities and eternal lice… or at least the jungle of impossib… your marble is bronze and your lia…
Oh! kangaroos, sequins, chocolate… You really are beautiful! Pearls, harmonicas, jujubes, aspirins! all the stuff they’ve always talked ab… still makes a poem a surprise!
Now when I walk around at lunchti… I have only two charms in my pocke… an old Roman coin Mike Kanemitsu… and a bolt-head that broke off a p… when I was in Madrid the others n…
It’s my lunch hour, so I go for a walk among the hum-colored cabs. First, down the sidewalk where laborers feed their dirty glistening torsos sandwiches
Alone at night in the wet city the country’s wit is not memorable. The wind has blown
The Sun woke me this morning loud and clear, saying “Hey! I’ve been trying to wake you up for fifteen minutes. Don’t be so rude, you are only the second poet I’ve ever cho…
Am I to become profligate as if I… as if I were French? Each time my heart is broken it ma… (and how the same names keep recur… list!), but one of these days ther…
Lana Turner has collapsed! I was trotting along and suddenly it started raining and snowing and you said it was hailing but hailing hits you on the head
Perhaps it is to avoid some great… as in a Restoration tragedy the he… O for a long sound sleep and so fo… that one flies, soaring above the… veering upward from the pavement a…
I am not a painter, I am a poet. Why? I think I would rather be a painter, but I am not. Well, for instance, Mike Goldberg is starting a painting. I drop in.