#Americans #XXCentury
if I suffer at this typewriter think how I’d feel among the lettuce— pickers of Salinas?
smoking a cigarette and noting a m… flattened out against the wall and died as organ music from centuries back… my black radio
I read that he lost a suitcase ful… train and that they never were rec… I can’t match the agony of this but the other night I wrote a 3—pa… upon this computer
we are always asked to understand the other person’s viewpoint no matter how out—dated
it beats love because there aren’t… wounds: in the morning she turns on the radio, Brahms or… or Stravinsky or Mozart. she boil… eggs counting the seconds out loud…
she sits up there drinking wine while her husband is at work. she puts quite
I always wanted to ball Henry Miller, she said, but by the time I got there it was too late. damn it, I said, you girls
Mindy stayed about a week. I introduced her to my friends. We went places. But nothing was resolved. I couldn’t climax. She didn’t seem to mind. It was strange. Around 10:45 PM one even...
the cockroach crouched against the tile while I was pissing and as I turned my head he hauled his butt
It was 12 hours a night, plus supervisors, plus clerks, plus the fact that you could hardly breathe in that pack of flesh, plus stale baked food in the “non-profit” cafeteria. Plus the ...
a poem is a city filled with stree… filled with saints, heroes, beggar… filled with banality and booze, filled with rain and thunder and p… drought, a poem is a city at war,
the blue pencil of the wave shots of yellow road a steering wheel an insane woman sitting next to you
the flesh covers the bone and they put a mind in there and sometimes a soul, and the women break
I didn’t see Lydia for a couple of days, although I did manage to phone her 6 or 7 times during that period. Then the weekend arrived. Her ex-husband, Gerald, always took the children o...
the hearse comes through the room… the beheaded, the disappeared, the… mad. the flies are a glue of sticky pas… their wings will not
