#1973 #AmericanWriters #AtTerrorStreetAndAgonyWay #BurningInWaterDrowningInFlame
love, he said, gas kiss me off kiss my lips kiss my hair my fingers
good weather is like good women— it doesn’t always happen and when it does
you have to have it or the walls w… in. you have to give everything up, th… away, everything away. you have to look at what you look…
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
He hinted at times that I was a bastard and I told him to listen to Brahms, and I told him to learn to paint and drink and not be dominated by women and dollars but he screamed at me, F...
cigarettes wetted with beer from the night before you light one gag open the door for air
now the territory is taken, the sacrificial lambs have been sl… as history is scratched again on t… as the bankers scurry to survive, as the young girls paint their hun…
At 3:30 a.m. my twelve hours were… I set the alarm so that I would b… “What happened, Hank? We thought… “I’m quitting.” “Quitting?” “Yes, you can’t blame a man for wa…
consistency is terrific: shark-mouth grubby interior with an almost perfect body, long blazing hair—
the centerfielder turns rushes back reaches up his glove and
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
the illusion is that you are simpl… reading this poem. the reality is that this is more than a poem.
he walks up to my Volks after I have parked and rocks it back and forth grinning around his
big sloppy wounded dog hit by a car and walking toward the curbing making enormous sounds
as the orchid dies and the grass goes insane, let’s have one for the los… met an old man and a tired whore