#Americans #XXCentury #1993 #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
they don’t make it the beautiful die in flame— suicide pills, rat poison, rope, w… ever... they rip their arms off,
majestic, majic infinite my little girl is sun on the carpet—
feet of cheese coffeepot soul hands that hate poolsticks eyes like paperclips I prefer red wine
I suppose it’s raining in some Sp… while I’m feeling bad like this; I’d like to think so now.
you with long hair, legs crossed h… the bar, you like a butcher knife… as the nightingale sings elsewhere… mingles with the roach’s hiss. know you as
not much chance, completely cut loose from purpose, he was a young man riding a bus
Slipping keenly into bright ashes, target of vanilla tears your sure body lit candles for men on dark nights, and now your night is darker
think of the beds used again and again to fuck in to die in. in this land
I was 50 years old and hadn’t been to bed with a woman for four years. I had no women friends. I looked at them as I passed them on the streets or wherever I saw them, but I looked at t...
am sitting on a tin chair outside… death, on stinking wings, wafts th… halls forevermore. remember the hospital stenches fro… was a boy and when I was a man and…
Office of Postmaster—United States Post Office—January 1, 1970 The attention of all employees is directed to the Code of Ethics for postal employees as set forth in Part 742 of the Post...
I feel gypped by dunces as if reality were the property of little men with luck and a headstart, and I sit in the cold
out of the arm of one love and into the arms of another I have been saved from dying on th… by a lady who smokes pot writes songs and stories
I only met one student at City College that I liked, Robert Becker. He wanted to be a writer. “I’m going to learn everything there is to learn about writing. It will be like taking a ca...
this head like a saucer decorated with everything as lip to lip we hang in mechanical joy; my hands blaze with arias