(1959)
#Americans Lyric poet
I sit in Lees. At 11:40 PM with Jimmy the pusher. He teaches me Ju Ju. Hot on the table before us shrimp foo yong, rice and mushroom chow yuke. Up the street under the…
Gas. A marriage that never existe… and a Fortune stolen from M a d… Who could say wealth provides secu… income lies upon inferiors, inferring sup…
From Ellen Needham, indicted for… to Alan Myronwitz’ interdit we go… “Kill them off”, as his unproduced… barely two decades late, with Uncl… Earl Warren
The hollow eyes of shock remain Electric sockets burnt out in the skull. The beauty of men never disappears But drives a blue car through the
Yes I put her away. But now life flares up As safe as China in a cup You hear the droppings of her heart.
O poetry, visit this house often, imbue my life with success, leave me not alone, give me a wife and home. Take this curse off
Perhaps some day you shall find me… as I blow smoke out my mouth While you walk the riverbank in the rain on Sunday evening. Looking for jazz, hearing love’s b…
A quart of champagne, one pill too… and a paper from the state saying… Was it the pills or champagne no simply some orange roses in a glas… on the bureau to transport myth fr…
I’m shaking from another man but remembering beating you on Sunday evening, a pal of solitude as Veruschka before Adolph Hitler’s lawyers did
The scene changes Five hours later and I come into a room where a clock ticks. I find a pillow to
Not as bad as you are And the next time that I see you I shall be old, a figure Couched from under acquaducts Where you still remain abroad a si…
Destiny lies behind our forces and what lives in the soul dies not. It inhabits our dreams as perpetual as light. As the spring grass flowers,
For I have seen love and his face is choice Heart of H… a flesh of pure fire, fusing from… where all Motion is one. And I have known
'You Talk Of Going But Don’t… ’ Even Have A Suit… (A Series of Repetitions) I will be an old man sometime And live in a dark room somewhere.
Death is an unforgiven That’s what we have in common language an act of sharing words. Coming tears will do it Where there’s smoke