this man sometimes forgets who he is. sometimes he thinks he’s the Pope. other times he thinks he’s a

I’m in bed. it’s morning and I hear: where are your socks? please get dressed!

unaccountably we are alone forever alone and it was meant to be that way, was never meant

I was sitting with an anarchist from Beverly Hills, Ben Solvnag, who was writing my biography when I heard her footsteps on the court walk. I knew the sound—they were always fast and fr...

no way back to Barcelona. the green soldiers have invaded th… madmen rule Spain and during a heat wave in 1952 I b… no way back to the Rock of Gibral…

she’s up seeing my doctor trying to get some diet pills; she’s not fat, she needs the speed… I go down to the nearest bar and w… at 3:30 in the afternoon of a tues…

feet of cheese coffeepot soul hands that hate poolsticks eyes like paperclips I prefer red wine

Back at Chelsey High it was the same. One group of seniors had graduated but they were replaced by another group of seniors with sports cars and expensive clothes. I was never confronte...

Markov claims I am trying to stab his soul but I’d prefer his wife. put my feet on the coffee table and he says,

if I suffer at this typewriter think how I’d feel among the lettuce-pickers of Salinas?

My mother went to her low-paying job each morning and my father, who didn’t have a job, left each morning too. Although most of the neighbors were unemployed he didn’t want them to thin...

cleaned my place the other day first time in ten years and found 100 rejected poems: fastened them all to a clipboard much bad reading.

he was easy, fat as a hummingbird and I had him blowing, I jabbed and crossed and took my t… everybody was waiting for the main… drinking beer, and I was thinking