#AmericanWriters
I read that he lost a suitcase ful… train and that they never were rec… I can’t match the agony of this but the other night I wrote a 3—pa… upon this computer
of late I’ve had this thought that this country has gone backwards or 5 de cades
a symphony orchestra. there is a thunderstorm, they are playing a Wagner overture and the people leave their seats u… and run inside to the pavilion
I went with two ladies down to Venice to look for antique furniture. I parked in back of the store and went in with them.
the old L.A. Public Library burn… down that library downtown and with it went large part of my
I’m soft. I dream too. I let myself dream. I dream of being famous. I dream of walking the streets of London and
he spoke to mice and sparrows and his hair was white at the age… his father beat him every day and… lit candles in the church. his grandmother came while the boy…
I see old people on pensions in th… supermarkets and they are thin and… proud and they are dying they are starving on their feet an… nothing. long ago, among other lie…
majestic, majic infinite my little girl is sun on the carpet—
at their best, there is gentleness… some understanding and, at times,… courage but all in all it is a mass, a glo… have too much.
At Mt. Justin, biology class was neat. We had Mr. Stanhope for our teacher. He was an old guy about 55 and we pretty much dominated him. Lilly Fischman was in the class and she was real...
like the fox run with the hunted and if I’m not the happiest man on earth
It was noon the next day when the phone rang. It was Lydia again. I heard a long insane wail like a wolverine shot in the arctic snow and left to bleed and die alone. . . . I slept most...
I remember the Model-T. Sitting high, the running boards seemed friendly, and on cold days, in the mornings, and often at other times, my father had to fit the hand-crank into the front...
sitting with the professors we talk about Allen Tate and John Crow Ransom the rugs are clean and the coffeetables shine