#AmericanWriters
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…
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…
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
I lift the toliet seat as if it were the nest of a bird and I see cat tracks all around the edge of the bowl.
I don’t know what it is, but I distrust myself when I start to like a girl a lot.
A piece of green pepper fell off the wooden salad bowl: so what?
This poem was found written on a p… Brautigan in a laundromat in San…
A girl in a green mini– skirt, not very pretty, walks down the street.
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.
Driving through hot brushy country the late autumn, I saw a hawk crucified on a
We stopped at perfect days and got out of the car. The wind glanced at her hair. It was as simple as that. I turned to say something—
The sweet juices of your mouth are like castles bathed in honey. I’ve never had it done so gently b… You have put a circle of castles around my penis and you swirl them
Spinning like a ghost on the bottom of a top, I’m haunted by all the space that I
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…