#AmericanWriters
Should I get married? Should I b… Astound the girl next door with my… Don’t take her to movies but to ce… tell all about werewolf bathtubs a… then desire her and kiss her and a…
I stand in the dark light in the d… street and look up at my window, I was born there. The lights are on; other people ar…
There’s a truth limits man A truth prevents his going any far… The world is changing The world knows it’s changing Heavy is the sorrow of the day
Budger of history Brake of time… Toy of universe Grandest of all… Do I hate the mischievous thunder… The bumpy club of One Million B.… Catapult Da Vinci tomahawk Coc…
What simple profundities What profound simplicities To sit down among the trees and breathe with them in murmur brool and breeze—
They deliver the edicts of God without delay And are exempt from apprehension from detention And with their God-given
a slow thoughtful spontaneous poem I am 32 years old and finally I look my age, if not… Is it a good face what’s no more a… It seems fatter. And my hair,
When I laid aside the verses of M… I lived a life of canned heat and… alone, not far from my body did I… walked with a hope of a sudden dre… O rose, downfallen, bend your huge…
I dreamed Ted Williams leaning at night against the Eiffel Tower, weeping… He was in uniform and his bat lay at his feet
With a love a madness for Shelley Chatterton Rimbaud and the needy-yap of my youth has gone from ear to ear: I HATE OLD POETMEN!
I ran up six flights of stairs to my small furnished room opened the window and began throwing out those things most important in lif…
How inseparable you and the Ameri… there to see; you and America, lik… ground, are one the same; yet how… in the state of Oregon. . . dead e… like a snow polar loping the
I am a great American I am almost nationalistic about it… I love America like a madness! But I am afraid to return to Amer… I’m even afraid to go into the Am…
O this political air so heavy with… and motors of a slow night, and no… but rain to walk—How it rings the… The umbrella’d congressmen; the ra… of big black cars, the shoulders o…
I am watching them churn the last… They are waiting for me to die; They want to make buttons out of m… Where are my sisters and brothers? That tall monk there, loading my u…