it was up in San Francisco after my poetry reading. it had been a nice crowd I had gotten my money I had this place upstairs

I’m soft. I dream too. I let myself dream. I dream of being famous. I dream of walking the streets of London and

after the slaughter house there was a bar around the corner and I sat in there and watched the sun go down through the window,

sometimes after you get your ass kicked real good by the forces you often wish you were a crane standing on one leg in blue water

The next day we picked up some of her stuff at this motel. There was a little dark guy in there with a wart on the side of his nose. He looked dangerous. Hector was sitting on the edge ...

There was another German Shepherd. It was hot summer and he came BOUNDING out of a back yard and then LEAPED through the air. His teeth snapped, just missing my jugular vein. “OH JESUS!...

the lilies storm my brain by god by god like nazi storm troopers! do you think I’m going tizzy?

I cross the room to the last wall the last window the last pink sun with its arms around the world

it is not very good to not get through whether it’s the wall the human mind

yes, they begin out in a willow, I… the starch mountains begin out in… and keep right on going without re… pumas and nectarines somehow these mountains are like

here comes the fishhead singing here comes the baked potato in dra… here comes nothing to do all day l… here comes another night of no sle… here comes the phone ringing the w…

if I suffer at this typewriter think how I’d feel among the lettuce— pickers of Salinas?

Bobby’s wife worked two nights a week and when she was gone he got on the telephone. I knew that on Tuesday and Thursday nights he would be lonely. It was Tuesday night when the phone r...