#AmericanWriters
the droll noon where squadrons of worms creep up like stripteasers to be raped by blackbirds. I go outside
They don’t make it the beautiful die in flame— suicide pills, rat poison, rope wh… ever... they rip their arms off,
Her father really hated me. He thought I was after his money. I didn’t want his god damned money. And I didn’t even want his god damned precious daughter. The only time I ever saw him w...
the words have come and gone, I sit ill. the phone rings, the cats sleep. Linda vacuums. I am waiting to live,
This will refer to the letter addressed to you dated August 17, 1969, proposing your suspension without pay for three days or other disciplinary action, based on Charge No. 1 specified ...
my grandfather was a tall German with a strange smell on his breath… he stood very straight in front of his small house and his wife hated him
they don’t make it the beautiful die in flame— suicide pills, rat poison, rope, w… ever... they rip their arms off,
half-past nowhere alone in the crumbling tower of myself stumbling in this the
the guy in the front court can’t speak English, he’s Greek, a rather stupid-looking and fairly ugly man. now my landlord does some painting…
I’d tell them to have an unhappy l… affair, hemorrhoids, bad teeth and to drink cheap wine, avoid opera and golf and chess, to keep switching the head of thei…
your life is your life don’t let it be clubbed into dank… be on the watch. there are ways out. there is a light somewhere.
Then I developed a new system at the racetrack. I pulled in $3,000 in a month and a half while only going to the track two or three times a week. I began to dream. I saw a little house ...
the mockingbird had been following… all summer mocking mocking mocking teasing and cocksure; the cat crawled under rockers on p…
maybe I’ll win the Irish Sweepsta… maybe I’ll go nuts maybe Harcourt Brace will call or maybe unemployment insurance or rich lesbian at the top of a hill.
I was in the 4th grade when I found out about it. I was probably one of the last to know, because I still didn’t talk to anybody. A boy walked up to “Your mother has a hole . . .”—he to...