#AmericanWriters
Three crates of Private Eye Lett… the name and drawing of a detectiv… with magnifying glass on the sides of the crates of lettuce, form a great cross in man’s imagin…
I feel horrible. She doesn’t love me and I wander around like a sewing machine that’s just finished sewing a turd to a garbage can lid.
THE AUTOPSY OF TROUT FISHING IN AMERICA This is the autopsy of Trout Fish… Fishing in America had been Lord… Missolonghi, Greece, and afterwar…
Forget love I want to die in your yellow hair
SEA, SEA RIDER The man who owned the bookstore wa… three-legged crow on the dandelion… He was, of course, a Jew, a retir… who had been torpedoed in the Nort…
I don’t know what it is, but I distrust myself when I start to like a girl a lot.
WORSEWICK Worsewick Hot Springs was nothing… boards across the creek. That was… The boards dammed up the creek eno… bathtub there, and the creek flowe…
The petals of the vagina unfold like Christofer Columbus taking off his shoes. Is there anything more beautiful than the bow of a ship
I live in the Twentieth Century and you lie here beside me. You were unhappy when you fell asleep. There was nothing I could do abou… it. I felt hopeless. Your face
A RETURN TO THE COVER OF THIS BOOK Dear Trout Fishing in America: I met your friend Fritz in Washin… to tell you that his case went to…
At 1:30 in the morning a fart smells like a marriage between an avocado and a fish head. I have to get out of bed to write this down without
It’s night
La voyageuse qui traverse les Hal… Marchait sur la pointe des pieds Le désespoir roulait au ciel ses g… Et dans le sac à main il y avait… Que seule a respiré la marraine de…
A piece of green pepper fell off the wooden salad bowl: so what?
I sit here, an arch-villain of rom… thinking about you. Gee, I’m sorr… I made you unhappy, but there was… I could do about it because I hav… Perhaps everything would have been…