A Boat by Richard Brautigan O beautiful was the werewolf in his evil forest. We took him to the carnival
Yes, the Fish Music by Richard Brautigan A trout-colored wind blows through my eyes, through my finger and I remember how the trout used to hide from the dinosaurs when they came to drink at the riv
Let’s Voyage into the New American House by Richard Brautigan There are doors that want to be free from their hinges to fly with perfect clouds. There are windows
San Francisco by Richard Brautigan This poem was found written on a p Brautigan in a laundromat in San
The Lake Josephus Days by Richard Brautigan We left Little Redfish for Lake Knowing the trout would wait there I hope someday we’ll have enough m I caught the limit of trout within My woman trailed silently behind,
Part 6 of Trout Fishing in America by Richard Brautigan THE HUNCHBACK TROUT The creek was made narrow by littl too close together. The creek was booths in a row with high Victoria taken off and all the backs of the
December 30 by Richard Brautigan 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
Less Time by Richard Brautigan Less time than it takes to say it, of everything, there you have it. as my fingers and some others; I’v were willing to accpet them. I’ve longer know what to think of suici
15% by Richard Brautigan she tries to get things out of men that she can’t get because she’s not 15% prettier 1
