#1973 #AmericanWriters #BurningInWaterDrowningInFlame #CrucifixInADeathhand
in the hospitals and jails it’s the worst in madhouses it’s the worst in penthouses
Sunday, I am eating a grapefruit, church is over at the… Orthadox to the west. she is dark
I can’t have it and you can’t have it and we won’t get it so don’t bet on it
I read last Saturday in the redwoods outside of Santa Cruz and I was about 3/4's finished when I heard a long high scream and a quite attractive
I didn’t see Lydia for a couple of days, although I did manage to phone her 6 or 7 times during that period. Then the weekend arrived. Her ex-husband, Gerald, always took the children o...
the higher you climb the greater the pressure. those who manage to endure learn
it was Philly and the bartender sa… what and I said, gimme a draft, J… got to get the nerves straight, I’… going to look for a job. you, he s… a job?
long ago he edited a little magazi… was up in San Francisco during the beat era during the reading-poetry-with-jaz… and I remember him because he neve…
The next night Bobby and Valerie came over. They had recently moved into my apartment building and now lived across the court. Bobby had on his tight knit shirt. Everything always fitte...
to be writing poetry at the age of… like a schoolboy, surely, I must be crazy; racetracks and booze and arguments with the landlord;
you came out, she said, and then you kicked this guy’s car and then you threw yourself into a… you crushed the whole bush,
you know what Li Po said when ask… Artist or Rich? I’d rather be Rich,” he replied,… sitting on the doorsteps of the Rich.”
is the slim tall ear-ringed bedroom damsel dressed in a long gown
The phone rang the next morning. Lydia had gone back to her place. It was Bobby, the kid who lived in the next block and worked in the porno bookstore. “Mindy’s down here. She wants you...
she reads to me from the New York… which I don’t buy, don’t know how they get in here, but it’s something about the Mafia one of the heads of the Mafia