The next day Katherine phoned me. She said she had the tickets and would be landing at L.A. International Friday at 2:30 pm. “Katherine,” I said, “there’s something I’ve got to tell you...

sitting with the professors we talk about Allen Tate and John Crow Ransom the rugs are clean and the coffeetables shine

I went over the other day to pick up my daughter. her mother came out with workman’s overalls on. I gave her the child support money

the waste of words continues with a stunning persistence as the waiter runs by carrying the… tray

had it for a year, really put in lot of bedroom time, slept upright on two pillows to keep from coughing, all the blood drained from my head

Jack London drinking his life awa… writing of strange and heroic men. Eugene O’Neill drinking himself o… while writing his dark and poetic works.

at exactly 12:00 midnight 1973-74 Los Angeles it began to rain on the palm leaves outside my window

old grey-haired waitresses in cafes at night have given it up, and as I walk down sidewalks of light and look into windows

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,

it is like this when you slip down, done like a wound-up victrola (you remember those?) and you go downtown

Within a day or two, about 1 pm in the afternoon there was a knock at my door. It was a painter, Monty Riff, or so he informed me. He also told me that I used to get drunk with him when...

I know that some night in some bedroom soon my fingers will rift