#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
sitting with the professors we talk about Allen Tate and John Crow Ransom the rugs are clean and the coffeetables shine
red summers and black satin charcoal and blood ringing the sheets while snails are stepped on and moths go batty
once we were young at this machine. . . drinking
what’s bad about all this is watching people drinking coffee and waiting. I would
in the Valkerie Mountains among the strutting peacocks I found a flower as large as my head
dying has its rough edge. no escaping now. the warden has his eye on me. his bad eye. I’m doing hard time now.
Jane, who has been dead for 31 yea… never could have imagined that I would write a scre… days together and
Some say we should keep personal r… poem, stay abstract, and there is some r… but jezus; twelve poems gone and I don’t keep…
probably from the belly button or… bed, or maybe from the mouth of th… the car crash on the avenue that l… scattered on the grass. she comes from love gone wrong und…
I had this room in front on DeLon… and I used to sit for hours in the daytime looking out the front window.
monkey feet small and blue walking toward you as the back of a building falls of… and an airplane chews the white sk…
Lydia and I were always fighting. She was a flirt and it irritated me. When we ate out I was sure she was eyeballing some man across the room. When my male friends came by to visit and ...
Bobby and Valerie came by and I introduced everybody around. “Valerie and I are going to take a vacation and rent rooms by the seashore in Manhattan Beach,” said Bobby. “Why don’t you g...
live alone in a small room and read the newspapers and sleep alone in the dark dreaming of crowds.
the blue pencil of the wave shots of yellow road a steering wheel an insane woman sitting next to you