#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
swans die in the Spring too and there it floated dead on a Sunday sideways circling in the current
a girlfriend came in built me a bed scrubbed and waxed the kitchen flo… scrubbed the walls vacuumed
some people never go crazy. me, sometimes I’ll lie down behind… for 3 or 4 days. they’ll find me there. it’s Cherub, they’ll say, and
Go to Tibet. Ride a camel. Read the Bible. Dye your shoes blue. Grow a Beard.
we have everything and we have not… and some men do it in churches and some men do it by tearing butt… in half and some men do it in Palm Spring…
they’d come around and they’d ask “you finished your 2nd novel yet?” “no.”
welcome to my wormy hell. the music grinds off-key. fish eyes watch from the wall. this is where the last happy shot… fired.
are we going to the movies or not? she asked him. all right, he said, let’s go. I’m not going to put any pan ties… so you can finger-fuck me in the
my grandfather was a tall German with a strange smell on his breath… he stood very straight in front of his small house and his wife hated him
not much chance, completely cut loose from purpose, he was a young man riding a bus
they talk down through the centuries to us, and this we need more and more, the statues and paintings in midnight age
it is justified all dying is justified all killing all death all passing, nothing is in vain
I’m in bed. it’s morning and I hear: where are your socks? please get dressed!
cleaned my place the other day first time in ten years and found 100 rejected poems: fastened them all to a clipboard much bad reading.
don’t ever get the idea I am a poe… at the racetrack any day half drun… betting quarters, sidewheelers and… but let me tell you, there are som… who go where the money goes, and s…