one of Lorca’s best lines is, “agony, always agony ...” think of this when you

drunk and writing poems at 3 a.m. what counts now is one more tight

big black beard tells me that I don’t feel terror I look at him

I was glad I had money in the Sav… Friday afternoon hungover I didn’t have a job I was glad I had money in the Sav… I didn’t know how to play a guitar

The drilling and squeezing continued for weeks but there was little result. When one boil vanished another would appear. I often stood in front of the mirror alone, wondering how ugly a...

when I look back now at the abuse I took from her I feel shame that I was so innocent,

the boys come up the boys climb up the brown pole as the waterheater gurgles in Spanish

at one stage in my life I met a man who claimed to have visited Pound at St. Elizabeths. then I met a woman who not only claimed to have visited

shot off his left ear then his right, and then tore off his belt buckle with hot lead, and then

as I go to the escalator young fellow and a lovely young gi… are ahead of me. her pants, her blouse are skintigh… as we ascend

The funeral was to be at 10:30 a.m. but it was already hot. I had on a cheap black suit, bought and fitted in a rush. It was my first new suit in years. I had located the son. We drove ...

I am hung by a nail the sun melts my heart I am cousin to the snake

invent yourself and then reinvent… don’t swim in the same slough. invent yourself and then reinvent… and stay out of the clutches of medioc…