What do I want in these rooms pap… How much can I make by cutting my… bathe my body reeking of masturbat… dried in employment bureaus, magaz… cloakrooms of the smiling gods of…
In the foreground we see time and… swept in a race toward the left hand side of the p… where shore meets shore. But that meeting place
Pigeons shake their wings on the c… out my window across the street, a… surveys the city’s blue—grey cloud… 'll come at 10 AM and take my pic… your picture, pigeons. I’m writing…
Reality is a question of realizing how real the world is already. Time is Eternity, ultimate and immovable;
I walked on the banks of the tincan banana dock and sat down under the huge shade of a Southern Pacific locomotive to look for the sunset over the box house hills and cry. Jack Kerouac...
White fog lifting & falling on mou… Trees moving in rivers of wind The clouds arise as on a wave, gigantic eddy liftin… above teeming ferns exquisitely sw…
At gauzy dusk, thin haze like ciga… ribbons past Chrysler Building’s… tapering delicately needletopped,… taller antenna filmed milky lit am… black and white apartmenting veil’…
I —A Pleasant Afternoon for Michael Brownstein and Dick… One day 3 poets and 60 ears sat un… tauqua tent in Aurora listening to Black spirituals, tap…
In the depths of the Greyhound Te… sitting dumbly on a baggage truck… waiting for the Los Angeles Expre… worrying about eternity over the P… the night—time red downtown heaven
These are the names of the compani… money from this war nineteenhundredsixtyeight Annodomi… eighty Hebraic These are the Corporations who ha…
What thoughts I have of you tonig… I walked down the sidestreets unde… self—conscious looking at the full… In my hungry fatigue, and shopping… into the neon fruit supermarket, d…
Last nite I dreamed of T.S. Elio… welcoming me to the land of dream Sofas couches fog in England Tea in his digs Chelsea rainbows curtains on his windows, fog seepi…
And the Communists have nothing t… lying policemen and the Capitalists proffer Napal… Naked, and the Communists create heavy in…
Cool black night thru redwoods cars parked outside in shade behind the gate, stars dim above the ravine, a fire burning by the… porch and a few tired souls hunche…
Sometimes when my eyes are red I go up on top of the RCA Buildi… and gaze at my world, Manhattan— my buildings, streets I’ve done fe… lofts, beds, coldwater flats