#AmericanWriters
the telephone has not been kind of… of late there have been more and m… from people who want to come over… from people who are depressed from people who are lonely
I know that some night in some bedroom soon my fingers will rift
we buy the scandal sheets at the s… get into bed and eat pretzels and… the church bells ring and the dogs… we turn on the tv and watch very b… then she goes down and brings up i…
stew at noon, my dear; and look: the ants, the sawdust, the mica plants, the shadows of banks like bad jokes; do you think we’ll hear
it was up in San Francisco after my poetry reading. it had been a nice crowd I had gotten my money I had this place upstairs
I phoned Joyce. “How’s it working with Purple Sti… “What did he do when you told him… “We were sitting across from each… “What happened?”
vain vanilla ladies strutting while van Gogh did it to himself. girls pulling on silk hose
That evening the phone rang. It was Mercedes. I had met her after giving a poetry reading at Venice Beach. She was about 28, fair body, pretty good legs, a blonde about 5~feet-5, a blue...
absolutely sesamoid said the skeleton shoving his chalky foot upon my desk, and that was it,
drive to the beach at night in the winter and sit and look at the burned-dow… wonder why they just let it sit th… in the water.
My father always ran the neighborhood kids away from our house. I was told not to play with them but I walked down the street and watched them anyhow. “Hey, Heinie!” they yelled, “Why d...
I made practice runs down to skid row to get ready for my future. I didn’t like what I saw down there. Those men and women had no special daring or brilliance. They wanted what everybod...
first they used to, he told me, gun and bomb the elephants, you could hear their screams over… but you flew high to bomb the peop… you never saw it,
I was editing a little magazine at the time, The Laxative Approach. I had two co-editors and we felt that we were printing the best poets of our time. Also some of the other kind. One o...
half-past nowhere alone in the crumbling tower of myself stumbling in this the