#Americans #Suicide
If I were to live my life in catfish forms in scaffolds of skin and whiskers at the bottom of a pond and you were to come by
A girl in a green mini– skirt, not very pretty, walks down the street.
It’s night
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…
It’s a star that looks like a poker game above the mountains of eastern Oregon. There are three men playing.
This poem was found written on a p… Brautigan in a laundromat in San…
For Marcia
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…
It seemed like years before I picked a bouquet
A RETURN TO THE COVER OF THIS BOOK Dear Trout Fishing in America: I met your friend Fritz in Washin… to tell you that his case went to…
Forget love I want to die in your yellow hair
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
ZAP! unlaid / 20 days
With his hat on he’s about five inches taller than a taxicab.
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—
