#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
I am driving down Wilton Avenue when this girl of about 15 dressed in tight blue jeans that grip her behind like two hand… steps out in front of my car
there’s Barry in his ripped walkin… he’s on Thorazine is 24 looks 38 lives with his mother in the same
To pacify Lydia I agreed to go to Muleshead, Utah. Her sister was camping in the mountains. The sisters actually owned much of the land. It had been inherited from their father. Glendol...
no way back to Barcelona. the green soldiers have invaded th… madmen rule Spain and during a heat wave in 1952 I b… no way back to the Rock of Gibral…
One night my father took me on his milk route. There were no longer any horsedrawn wagons. The milk trucks now had engines. After loading up at the milk company we drove off on his rout...
monkey feet small and blue walking toward you as the back of a building falls of… and an airplane chews the white sk…
feet of cheese coffeepot soul hands that hate poolsticks eyes like paperclips I prefer red wine
she’s young, she said, but look at me, I have pretty ankl… and look at my wrists, I have pret… wrists my god,
“you know,” she said, “you were at the bar so you didn’t see but I danced with this guy. we danced and we danced close.
That evening I started drinking. It wasn’t going to be easy without Katherine. I found some things she had left behind—earrings, a bracelet. I’ve got to get back to the typewriter, I th...
I could see the road ahead of me. I was poor and I was going to stay poor. But I didn’t particularly want money. I didn’t know what I wanted. Yes, I did. I wanted someplace to hide out,...
live alone in a small room and read the newspapers and sleep alone in the dark dreaming of crowds.
they go on writing pumping out poems— young boys and college professors wives who drink wine all afternoon while their husbands work,
Office of Postmaster—United States Post Office—January 1, 1970 The attention of all employees is directed to the Code of Ethics for postal employees as set forth in Part 742 of the Post...
Two nights later I went over to Tammie’s place on Rustic Court. I knocked. The lights weren’t on. It seemed empty. I looked in her mailbox. There were letters in there. I wrote a note, ...