#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
screen like a burglar to take your… the snake had crawled the hole, and she said, tell me about yourself.
One morning about 10 a.m. the phon… I recognized the voice and began t… “Yes, yes, Miss Graves, but go on… “So therefore we have notified the… “And you are scheduled to throw yo…
I didn’t contest the divorce, didn’t go to court. Joyce gave me the car. She didn’t drive. All I had lost was 3 or 4 million. But I still had the post office. “I saw you with that bitch...
the girls were young and worked the streets but often couldn’t score, they
probably from the belly button or… bed, or maybe from the mouth of th… the car crash on the avenue that l… scattered on the grass. she comes from love gone wrong und…
I suppose it’s raining in some Sp… while I’m feeling bad like this; I’d like to think so now.
a woman, a tire that’s flat, a disease, a desire: fears in front of you, fears that hold so still
the illusion is that you are simpl… reading this poem. the reality is that this is more than a poem.
know. I know. they are limited, have different needs and concerns. but I watch and learn from them.
the lair of the hunted is hidden in the last place you’d ever look and even if you find it you won’t believe
During the second and third grades I still didn’t get a chance to play baseball but I knew that somehow I was developing into a player. If I ever got a bat in my hands again I knew I wo...
I can see myself now after all these suicide days and n… being wheeled out of one of those… (of course, this is only if I get… by a subnormal and bored nurse
very tall girl lifts her nose at m… outside a supermarket as if I were a walking garbage can; and I had no desire for her, no more desire
we take what we can see— the engines driving us mad, lovers finally hating; this fish in the market staring upward into our minds;
terror finally becomes almost bearable but never quite terror creeps like a cat crawls like a cat