#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
if I suffer at this typewriter think how I’d feel among the lettuce-pickers of Salinas?
a poem is a city filled with stree… filled with saints, heroes, beggar… filled with banality and booze, filled with rain and thunder and p… drought, a poem is a city at war,
the girls were young and worked the streets but often couldn’t score, they
the wind blows hard to night and it’s a cold wind and I think about the boys on the row. hope some of them have a bottle
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…
Bach, I said, he had 20 children. he played the horses during the da… he f—ed at night and drank in the mornings. he wrote music in between.
you may not believe it but there are people who go through life with very little friction or
it is justified all dying is justified all killing all death all passing, nothing is in vain
I keep thinking it will be outside now waiting for me blue front bumper twisted
Somehow the money slipped away after that and soon I left the track and sat around in my apartment waiting for the 90 days’ leave to run out. My nerves were raw from the drinking and th...
So I was surprised when the phone rang a couple of nights later and it was Cassie. “What are you doing, Hank?” She gave me the address, it was either Westwood or West L. A. “I have plen...
the cockroach crouched against the tile while I was pissing and as I turned my head he hauled his butt
believe in earning one’s own way but I also believe in the unexpect… gift and it is a wondrous thing when a woman who has read your wor…
We got back to 1010. I had my check. I’d left word that we didn’t want to be disturbed. Tammie and I sat drinking. I’d read 5 or 6 love poems about her. “They knew who I was,” she said....
to be writing poetry at the age of… like a schoolboy, surely, I must be crazy; racetracks and booze and arguments with the landlord;