#AmericanWriters #1977 #LoveIsADogFromHell
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,...
In the morning Dee Dee drove me to the Sunset Strip for breakfast. The Mercedes was black and shone in the sun. We drove past the billboards and the nightclubs and the fancy restaurants...
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
there are worse things than being alone but it often takes decades to realize this and most often
twitching in the sheets— to face the sunlight again, that’s clearly trouble. I like the city better when the
I heard it first while screwing a… who had the biggest box in Scranton. I listened to it again as I wrote… to my mother
I paid this one’s fare all the way… to San Francisco then flew up to meet her at her br… and I got drunk and talked all night about a redhe…
long ago he edited a little magazi… was up in San Francisco during the beat era during the reading-poetry-with-jaz… and I remember him because he neve…
hey, said my friend, I want you to… Hangdog Harry, he reminds me of y… and I said, all right, and we went… this cheap hotel. old men sitting around watching
sitting on a 2nd-floor porch at 1:… while looking out over the city. could be worse. we needn’t accomplish great things…
I pick up the skirt, I pick up the sparkling beads in black, this thing that moved once around flesh,
see this poem? was written without drinking. don’t need to drink to write.
Sam the whorehouse man has squeaky shoes and he walks up and down the court squeaking and talking to
she’s not for you, man, she’s not your type, she’s erased she’s been used she’s got all the wrong
a symphony orchestra. there is a thunderstorm, they are playing a Wagner overture and the people leave their seats u… and run inside to the pavilion