#AmericanWriters
the lair of the hunted is hidden in the last place you’d ever look and even if you find it you won’t believe
these boys have got class they ought to make kings out of old men rolling cigarettes in rooms small enough
it is not very good to not get through whether it’s the wall the human mind
I got his ashes, she said, and I… out to sea and I scattered his ash… they didn’t even look like ashes and the urn was weighted with
he was 65, his wife was 66, had Alzheimer’s disease. he had cancer of the mouth. there were
My father always ran the neighborhood kids away from our house. I was told not to play with them but I walked down the street and watched them anyhow. “Hey, Heinie!” they yelled, “Why d...
I walked off the job again and the police stopped me for running a red light at Serrano… my mind was rather gone and I stood in a patch of leaves
30 dogs, 20 men on 20 horses and o… and look here, they write, you are a dupe for the state, the… you are in the ego-dream, read your history, study the monet…
The reading in Vancouver went through, $500 plus air fare and lodging. The sponsor, Bart Mcintosh, was nervous about crossing the border. I was to fly to Seattle, he’d meet me there and...
in the Valkerie Mountains among the strutting peacocks I found a flower as large as my head
Upon awakening I got up and used Joanna’s toothbrush, drank a couple of glasses of water, washed my hands and face and got back into bed. Joanna turned around and my mouth found hers. M...
This babe in the grandstand with dyed red hair kept leaning her breasts against me and talking about Gardena poker parlors
Vallejo writing about loneliness while starving to death; Van Gogh’s ear rejected by a whore;
one of the first actors to play Ta… Motion Picture Home. he’d been there for years waiting… he spent much of his time running in and out of the wards
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