#1973 #AmericanWriters #AtTerrorStreetAndAgonyWay #BurningInWaterDrowningInFlame
here I am in the ground my mouth open and
is an orange animal with hand grenades fire power
beheaded in the middle of the night scratching my sides I am covered with bites kick my white legs out of the shee…
this is important enough: to get your feelings down, it is better than shaving or cooking beans with garlic. it is the little we can do
for five years I have been looking across the way at the side of a red apartment hou… there must be people in there even love in there
in the center of the action you have to lay down like an anima… until it charges, you have to lay down
But, there were still bits of action. One guy was caught on the same stairway that I had been trapped on. He was caught there with his head under some girl’s skirt. Then one of the girl...
another bed another woman more curtains another bathroom another kitchen
we are gathered here now to bury her in this poem. she did not marry an unemployed wi… beat her every
Frank liked airplanes. He lent me all his pulp magazines about World War 1. The best was Flying Aces. The dog-fights were great, the Spads and the Fokkers mixing it. I read all the stor...
not much chance, completely cut loose from purpose, he was a young man riding a bus
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...
drunk and writing poems at 3 a.m. what counts now is one more tight
dogs and angels are not very different. I often go to this place to eat about 2:30 in the afternoon
A couple of nights later Becker walked in. I guess my parents gave him my address or he located me through the college. I had my name and address listed with the employment division at ...