#AmericanWriters #Suicide
I walked across the park to the fe… It was in the center of a glass sq… by red flowers and fountains. The… was in the shape of a sea horse an… We got hot and died.
THE HUNCHBACK TROUT The creek was made narrow by littl… too close together. The creek was… booths in a row with high Victoria… taken off and all the backs of the…
At 1:30 in the morning a fart smells like a marriage between an avocado and a fish head. I have to get out of bed to write this down without
Hinged to forgetfulness like a door, she slowly closed out of sight, and she was the woman I loved,
THE PUDDING MASTER OF STANLEY BASIN Tree, snow and rock beginnings, th… lake promised us eternity, but the… thousands of silly minnows, swimmi…
WITNESS FOR TROUT FISHI… IN AMERICA PEACE In San Francisco around Easter t… trout fishing in America peace par… of red stickers printed and they p…
We left Little Redfish for Lake Josephus, traveling along the good names—from Stanley to Capehorn to Seafoam to the Rapid River, up Float Creek, past the Greyhound Mine and then to Lake...
The petals of the vagina unfold like Christofer Columbus taking off his shoes. Is there anything more beautiful than the bow of a ship
Three crates of Private Eye Lett… the name and drawing of a detectiv… with magnifying glass on the sides of the crates of lettuce, form a great cross in man’s imagin…
It seemed like years before I picked a bouquet
I don’t know what it is, but I distrust myself when I start to like a girl a lot.
Spinning like a ghost on the bottom of a top, I’m haunted by all the space that I
Forget love I want to die in your yellow hair
Everybody wants to go to bed with everybody else, they’re lined up for blocks, so I’ll go to bed with you. They won’t miss us.
I go to bed in Los Angeles thinki… about you.
