#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
they go on writing pumping out poems— young boys and college professors wives who drink wine all afternoon while their husbands work,
John F. Kennedy flower knocks upo… shot through the neck; the gladiolas gather by the dozens… India dripping into Ceylon;
a girlfriend came in built me a bed scrubbed and waxed the kitchen flo… scrubbed the walls vacuumed
in junior high school Big Max was a problem. we’d be sitting during lunch hour eating our peanut butter sandwiche… and potato chips.
naked in that bright light the four horse falls and throws a 112-pound boy into the hooves
I’ll settle for the 6 horse on a rainy afternoon a paper cup of coffee in my hand a little way to go,
the boys come up the boys climb up the brown pole as the waterheater gurgles in Spanish
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...
once we were young at this machine. . . drinking
and the subnormal. all through grammar school junior high high school junior college
used to drive those trucks so hard and for so long that my right foot would go dead from pushing down on the accelerator.
It was another Sunday that we got into the Model-T in search of my Uncle John. “He has no ambition,” said my father. “I don’t see how he can hold his god-damned head up and look people ...
I been readin’ you for a long time… I just put Billy Boy to bed, he got 7 mean ticks from somewhere… I got 2, my husband, Benny, he got 3.
I found that the only time to study was before sleeping. I was always too tired to make and eat breakfast, so I would go out and buy a tall 6 pack, put it on the chair beside the bed, r...
she was in her orange Volks waitin… as I walked up the street with 2 six packs and a pint of sco… and she jumped out and began grabbing the beerbottles…