#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
the canaries were there, and the l… and the old woman with warts; and I was there, a child and I touched the piano keys as they talked—
by God, I don’t know what to do. they’re so nice to have around. they have a way of playing with the balls
I sit here on the 2nd floor hunched over in yellow pajamas still pretending to be a writer.
Not much happened during the rest of her stay. We drank, we ate, we fucked. There were no arguments. We took long drives down along the shore, ate at seafood cafes. I didn’t bother with...
they took my man off the street the other day he wore an L.A. Rams sweatshirt w… the sleeves cut off
it beats love because there aren’t… wounds: in the morning she turns on the radio, Brahms or… or Stravinsky or Mozart. she boil… eggs counting the seconds out loud…
the wind blows hard to night and it’s a cold wind and I think about the boys on the row. hope some of them have a bottle
up in northern California he stood in the pulpit and had been reading for some time he had been reading poems about nature and the goodness
Tammie came by that night. She appeared to be high on uppers. “I want some champagne,” she said. Then the phone rang. It was Lydia. “I just wondered how you were doing. ...” “You know D...
you sit on the couch with me tonight new woman. have you seen the
drive to the beach at night in the winter and sit and look at the burned-dow… wonder why they just let it sit th… in the water.
absolutely sesamoid said the skeleton shoving his chalky foot upon my desk, and that was it,
when you’re young a pair of female high-heeled shoes just sitting
cleaned my place the other day first time in ten years and found 100 rejected poems: fastened them all to a clipboard much bad reading.
when I look back now at the abuse I took from her I feel shame that I was so innocent,