#1973 #AmericanWriters #BurningInWaterDrowningInFlame #CrucifixInADeathhand
there he is: not too many hangovers not too many fights with women not too many flat tires never a thought of suicide
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,…
rose red sunlight; take it apart in the garage like a puzzle:
Bobby’s wife worked two nights a week and when she was gone he got on the telephone. I knew that on Tuesday and Thursday nights he would be lonely. It was Tuesday night when the phone r...
over my radio now comes the sound of a truly mad org… can see some monk drunk in a cellar mind gone or found,
drunk and writing poems at 3 a.m. what counts now is one more tight
old grey-haired waitresses in cafes at night have given it up, and as I walk down sidewalks of light and look into windows
we tried to hide it in the house s… neighbors wouldn’t see. was difficult, sometimes we both h… be gone at once and when we return… there would be excreta and urine a…
of course, I may die in the next t… and I’m ready for that but what I’m really worried about… that my editor—publisher might ret… even though he is ten years younge…
That Tuesday night we were sitting at my place drinking; Tammie, me and her brother, Jay. The phone rang. It was Bobby. “Louie and his wife are down here and she’d like to meet you.” Lo...
New Year’s Eve was another bad night for me to get through. My parents had always delighted in New Year’s Eve, listening to it approach on the radio, city by city, until it arrived in L...
I was coming home from classes down Westview hill. I never had any books to carry. I passed my exams by listening to the class lectures and by guessing at the answers. I never had to cr...
ask the sidewalk painters of Paris ask the sunlight on a sleeping dog ask the 3 pigs ask the paperboy ask the music of Donizetti
if I suffer at this typewriter think how I’d feel among the lettuce-pickers of Salinas?
That evening I started drinking. It wasn’t going to be easy without Katherine. I found some things she had left behind—earrings, a bracelet. I’ve got to get back to the typewriter, I th...