#AmericanWriters
When you take your pill it’s like a mine disaster. I think of all the people lost inside of you.
I like to think (and the sooner the better!) of a cybernetic meadow where mammals and computers live together in mutually
WORSEWICK Worsewick Hot Springs was nothing… boards across the creek. That was… The boards dammed up the creek eno… bathtub there, and the creek flowe…
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…
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…
I am standing in the cemetery at… What did Judy say? ‘God-forsaken… A very old man who has cancer on h… care of the cemetery, is raking a… manner as to almost (polish it lik…
Three crates of Private Eye Lett… the name and drawing of a detectiv… with magnifying glass on the sides of the crates of lettuce, form a great cross in man’s imagin…
THE COVER FOR TROUT FISHING IN AMERICA The cover for Trout Fishing in A… late in the afternoon, a photograp… statue in San Francisco’s Washing…
A trout-colored wind blows through my eyes, through my finger… and I remember how the trout used to hide from the dinosaurs when they came to drink at the riv…
she tries to get things out of men that she can’t get because she’s not 15% prettier
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—
O beautiful was the werewolf in his evil forest. We took him to the carnival
A girl in a green mini– skirt, not very pretty, walks down the street.
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…
There are doors that want to be free from their hinges to fly with perfect clouds. There are windows