they’re not going to let you sit at a front table at some cafe in Europe in the mid-afternoon sun. you do, somebody’s going to

which reminds me I shacked with Jane for 7 years she was a drunk I loved her my parents hated her

all of a sudden I’m a painter. a girl from Galveston gives me $50 for a painting of a man holding a candycane while floating in a darkened sky.

On Thanksgiving Iris prepared the turkey and put it in the oven. Bobby and Valerie came over for a few drinks but they didn’t stay. It was refreshing. Iris had on another dress, just as...

the boy walks with his muddy feet… soul talking about recitals, virtuosi,… the lesser known novels of Dostoev… talking about how he corrected a w…

I was coming off an affair that ha… frankly, I was sliding down into a… really feeling shitty and low when I lucked into this lady with… covered with a jeweled canopy

the old folks play a game in the park overlooking the sea shoving markers across cement with wooden sticks. four play, two on each side

That evening the phone rang. It was Mercedes. I had met her after giving a poetry reading at Venice Beach. She was about 28, fair body, pretty good legs, a blonde about 5~feet-5, a blue...

great writer remains in bed shades down doesn’t want to see anyone doesn’t want to write anymore doesn’t want to try anymore;

here comes the fishhead singing here comes the baked potato in dra… here comes nothing to do all day l… here comes another night of no sle… here comes the phone ringing the w…

we are gathered here now to bury her in this poem. she did not marry an unemployed wi… beat her every

are more beautiful than movie stars and they lounge on the lawn sunbathing

near the corner table in the cafe middle-aged couple sit. they have finished their

sometimes I forget about him and h… innocence, almost idiotic, awkward… he liked walking over bridges and… to night I think about him, the wa… one felt space between his lines,…