#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
he was just a cat cross-eyed, dirty white with pale blue eyes
you shoulda been at this party, I know you hate parties but you seem to be at most of them… anyhow, I took my girl, you know her—
to be writing poetry at the age of… like a schoolboy, surely, I must be crazy; racetracks and booze and arguments with the landlord;
outside my window Sunday. I am eating a grapefruit. church is over at the… Orthodox to the west.
you’ve got to fuck a great many wo… beautiful women and write a few decent love poems. and don’t worry about age and/or freshly-arrived talents.
the final curtain on one of the lo… musicals ever, some people claim t… seen it over one hundred times. I saw it on the tv news, that fina… flowers, cheers, tears, a thundero…
I have been painting these last tw… it’s not much, you’re correct, but in this tournament great dream… history removes her dress and beco… and I have awakened in the morning
Lydia’s sister Angela came to town from Utah to see Lydia’s new house. Lydia had made a down payment on a little place and the monthly payments were very low. It was a very good buy. Th...
here I’ll be 55 in a week. what will I write about
terror finally becomes almost bearable but never quite terror creeps like a cat crawls like a cat
almost dawn blackbirds on the telephone wire waiting as I eat yesterday’s forgotten sandwich
I phoned Joyce. “How’s it working with Purple Sti… “What did he do when you told him… “We were sitting across from each… “What happened?”
The drilling and squeezing continued for weeks but there was little result. When one boil vanished another would appear. I often stood in front of the mirror alone, wondering how ugly a...
terrible arguments. and, at last, lying peacefully on her large bed which is spread in red with cool patterns o…
often it is the only thing between you and impossibility. no drink,