#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
hooray say the roses, today is bla… and we are red as blood. hooray say the roses, today is Wed… and we bloom wher soldiers fell and lovers too,
often it is the only thing between you and impossibility. no drink,
we like to shower afterwards (I like the water hotter than she) and her face is always soft and pe… and she’ll wash me first spread the soap over my balls
I have been looking at the same lampshade for 5 years and it has gathered
as the poems go into the thousands… realize that you’ve created very little. it comes down to the rain, the sun… the traffic, the nights and the da…
sway with me, everything sad— madmen in stone houses without doors, lepers steaming love and song frogs trying to figure
the branches break, the birds fall… the whores stand straight, the bombs stack, evening, morning, night, peanutbutter,
I met a genius on the train today about 6 years old, he sat beside me and as the train
On Christmas I had Betty over. She baked a turkey and we drank. Betty always liked huge Christmas trees. It must have been 7 feet tall, and 1/2 as wide, covered with lights, bulbs, tins...
Vallejo writing about loneliness while starving to death; Van Gogh’s ear rejected by a whore;
I saw Sara every three or four days, at her place or at mine. We slept together but there was no sex. We came close but we never quite got to it. Drayer Baba’s precepts held strong. We ...
dying for a beer dying for and of life on a windy afternoon in Hollywood listening to symphony music from m… on the floor.
he got knifed in broad daylight, c… holding his hands over his gut, dr… on the pavement. nobody waiting in line left their… he made it to the Mission doorway,…
Just give me a little atomic bomb Not too mutch just a little Enough to kill a horse in the stre… But there aren’t any horses in the… Enough to knock the flowers from a…
the dead can sleep they don’t get up and rage they don’t have a wife. her white face like a flower in a closed