#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
at high noon at a small college near the beach sober the sweat running down my arms a spot of sweat on the table
This babe in the grandstand with dyed red hair kept leaning her breasts against me and talking about Gardena poker parlors
Christmas eve, alone, in a motel room down the coast near the Pacific— hear it?
the cops want me to come down and… some guy who tried to rape me. I’ve lost the key to my car again;… the key to open the door but not t… to start it.
I cross the room to the last wall the last window the last pink sun with its arms around the world
since my last name was Fuch, he sa… believe the school yard was tough:… powder down my neck, threw gravel… with rubber bands in class, and ou… me names, well, one name mainly, o…
she’s not for you, man, she’s not your type, she’s erased she’s been used she’s got all the wrong
we like to shower afterwards (I like the water hotter than she) and her face is always soft and pe… and she’ll wash me first spread the soap over my balls
majestic, majic infinite my little girl is sun on the carpet—
probably from the belly button or… bed, or maybe from the mouth of th… the car crash on the avenue that l… scattered on the grass. she comes from love gone wrong und…
all right, while we are gently cel… and while crazy classical music le… my small radio, I light a fresh ci… and realize that I am still very m… the 21st century is almost upon me…
she cut my toenails the night befo… and in the morning she said, “I th… just lay here all day.” which meant she wasn’t going to wo… she was at my apartment—which mean…
Mongolian coasts shining in light, listen to the pulse of the sun, the tiger is the same to all of us and high oh so high on the branch
Vallejo writing about loneliness while starving to death; Van Gogh’s ear rejected by a whore;
I suppose it’s raining in some Sp… while I’m feeling bad like this; I’d like to think so now.