#AmericanWriters
I think of automobiles parked in a parking lot when I think of myself dead I think of frying pans when I think of myself dead
my grandmother had a serious gas problem. we only saw her on Sunday. she’d sit down to dinner and she’d have gas.
the strong men the muscle men there they sit down at the beach cocoa tans
of late I’ve had this thought that this country has gone backwards or 5 de cades
all of a sudden I’m a painter. a girl from Galveston gives me $50 for a painting of a man holding a candycane while floating in a darkened sky.
more wasted days, gored days, evaporated days. more squandered days, days pissed away,
she was hot, she was so hot I didn’t want anybody else to have… and if I didn’t get home on time she’d be gone, and I couldn’t bear… I’d go mad. . .
when God created love he didn’t he… when God created dogs He didn’t h… when God created plants that was a… when God created hate we had a sta… when God created me He created me
—he’s a dandy —small moustache —usually sucking on a cigar he tends to lean into cars as he transacts business
liked D . H. Lawrence he could get so indignant he snapped and he ripped with wonderfully energetic sentenc… he could lay the word down
Again I was on a new route. The Stone always put me on hard routes, but now and then, due to the circumstances of things, he was forced to place me on one less murderous. Route 511 was ...
I was the last one off the plane and there was Joanna Dover. “Joanna, let’s have a Bloody Mary while we wait for my baggage. Oh hell, I don’t have any baggage. But let’s have a Bloody M...
starving there, sitting around the… and at night walking the streets f… hours, the moonlight always seemed fake to me, maybe it was,
Our man was there to meet us, Gary Benson. He also wrote poetry and drove a cab. He was very fat but at least he didn’t look like a poet, he didn’t look North Beach or East Village or l...
call it love stand it up in the failing light put it in a dress pray sing beg cry laugh