#AmericanWriters
the cockroach crouched against the tile while I was pissing and as I turned my head he hauled his butt
I was standing in line at the bank… when the old fellow in front of me dropped his glasses (luckily, with… case) and as he bent over
drunk again at 3 a.m. at the end o… of wine, I have typed from a dozen… poesy an old man maddened for the flesh of young gi…
I’ve watched this city burn twice in my lifetime and the most notable event was the reaction of the politicians in the
Her father really hated me. He thought I was after his money. I didn’t want his god damned money. And I didn’t even want his god damned precious daughter. The only time I ever saw him w...
I had agreed to give a reading up north. It was the afternoon before the reading and I was sitting in an apartment at the Holiday Inn drinking beer with Joe Washington, the promoter, an...
there waas a rock-and-mud slide on the Pacific Coast Highway and… detour and they directed us up int… and traffic was slow and it was ho… we were lost.
it beats love because there aren’t… wounds: in the morning she turns on the radio, Brahms or… or Stravinsky or Mozart. she boil… eggs counting the seconds out loud…
at the window I watch a man with a power mower the sounds of his doing race like flies and bees
Bruckner wasn’t bad even though he got down on his knees and proclaimed Wagner the master.
Mongolian coasts shining in light, listen to the pulse of the sun, the tiger is the same to all of us and high oh so high on the branch
dumb, Jesus Christ, some people are so dumb you can hear them splashing around
I was sitting with an anarchist from Beverly Hills, Ben Solvnag, who was writing my biography when I heard her footsteps on the court walk. I knew the sound—they were always fast and fr...
around 2 a.m. in my small room after turning off the poem machine for now
Sam the whorehouse man has squeaky shoes and he walks up and down the court squeaking and talking to