#AmericanWriters
sick with the flu drinking beer my radio on loud enough to overcome the sounds of the
Each night as I got ready to go on in, Joyce had my clothing laid out on the bed. Everything was the most expensive money could buy. I never wore the same pair of pants, the same shirt,...
probably from the belly button or… bed, or maybe from the mouth of th… the car crash on the avenue that l… scattered on the grass. she comes from love gone wrong und…
when Whitman wrote, “I sing the b… I know what he meant I know what he wanted:
the lady has me temporarily off th… and now the pecker stands up better. however, things change overnight— instead of listening to Shostakovi…
We came in low over Kansas City, the pilot said the temperature was 20 degrees, and there I was in my thin California sports coat and shirt, lightweight pants, summer stockings, and hol...
the critics now have me drinking champagne and driving a BMW and also married to a socialite from
he spoke to mice and sparrows and his hair was white at the age… his father beat him every day and… lit candles in the church. his grandmother came while the boy…
some people never go crazy. me, sometimes I’ll lie down behind… for 3 or 4 days. they’ll find me there. it’s Cherub, they’ll say, and
I saw Bobby out front the next day when I went to buy a newspaper. “Louie phoned,” he said, “he told me what happened to him.” “He ran outside to vomit and Tammie grabbed his cock while...
she left me 5 weeks ago and went t… that is, I think she left. the other day I went out to mail h… and I saw her sitting on the bus s… it was her hair there
all of a sudden I’m a painter. a girl from Galveston gives me $50 for a painting of a man holding a candycane while floating in a darkened sky.
the hearse comes through the room… the beheaded, the disappeared, the… mad. the flies are a glue of sticky pas… their wings will not
I had been corresponding with a lady in San Francisco for several months. Her name was Liza Weston and she survived by giving dance lessons, including ballet, in her own studio. She was...
around 2 a.m. in my small room after turning off the poem machine for now