#AmericanWriters #Suicide
I live in the Twentieth Century and you lie here beside me. You were unhappy when you fell asleep. There was nothing I could do abou… it. I felt hopeless. Your face
There are doors that want to be free from their hinges to fly with perfect clouds. There are windows
I sit here, an arch-villain of rom… thinking about you. Gee, I’m sorr… I made you unhappy, but there was… I could do about it because I hav… Perhaps everything would have been…
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...
Forget love I want to die in your yellow hair
I like to think (and the sooner the better!) of a cybernetic meadow where mammals and computers live together in mutually
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…
With the rain falling surgically against the roof, I ate a dish of ice cream that looked like Kafka’s hat.
THE PUDDING MASTER OF STANLEY BASIN Tree, snow and rock beginnings, th… lake promised us eternity, but the… thousands of silly minnows, swimmi…
O beautiful was the werewolf in his evil forest. We took him to the carnival
With his hat on he’s about five inches taller than a taxicab.
There are no postage stamps that s… back to England three centuries ag… no postage stamps that make letter… travel back until the grave hasn’t… and John Donne stands looking out…
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
Sometimes life is merely a matter… affords. I once read something abo… it stimulates all the organs. I thought at first this was a stra… as time goes by I have found out t…
La voyageuse qui traverse les Hal… Marchait sur la pointe des pieds Le désespoir roulait au ciel ses g… Et dans le sac à main il y avait… Que seule a respiré la marraine de…
