#AmericanWriters #Suicide
Just because people love your mind, doesn’t mean they have to have your body,
SEA, SEA RIDER The man who owned the bookstore wa… three-legged crow on the dandelion… He was, of course, a Jew, a retir… who had been torpedoed in the Nort…
Spinning like a ghost on the bottom of a top, I’m haunted by all the space that I
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…
A girl in a green mini– skirt, not very pretty, walks down the street.
Ah, you’re just a copy of all the candy bars I’ve ever eaten.
THE PUDDING MASTER OF STANLEY BASIN Tree, snow and rock beginnings, th… lake promised us eternity, but the… thousands of silly minnows, swimmi…
I lift the toliet seat as if it were the nest of a bird and I see cat tracks all around the edge of the bowl.
We stopped at perfect days and got out of the car. The wind glanced at her hair. It was as simple as that. I turned to say something—
Do you think of me as often as I think of you?
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
The petals of the vagina unfold like Christofer Columbus taking off his shoes. Is there anything more beautiful than the bow of a ship
SANDBOX MINUS JOHN DILLINGER EQUALS WHAT? Often I return to the cover of Tr… took the baby and went down there… watering the cover with big revolv…
Oh, Marcia, I want your long blonde beauty to be taught in high school, so kids will learn that God lives like music in the skin
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...
