#AmericanWriters
Uncomprising year’I see no mean… Though this abled self is here non… either in trade gold or grammaticn… I drop the wheelwright’s simple… Why weave the garland? Why ring t…
I dreamed Ted Williams leaning at night against the Eiffel Tower, weeping… He was in uniform and his bat lay at his feet
When I laid aside the verses of M… I lived a life of canned heat and… alone, not far from my body did I… walked with a hope of a sudden dre… O rose, downfallen, bend your huge…
Should I get married? Should I b… Astound the girl next door with my… Don’t take her to movies but to ce… tell all about werewolf bathtubs a… then desire her and kiss her and a…
a slow thoughtful spontaneous poem I am 32 years old and finally I look my age, if not… Is it a good face what’s no more a… It seems fatter. And my hair,
I am a great American I am almost nationalistic about it… I love America like a madness! But I am afraid to return to Amer… I’m even afraid to go into the Am…
There’s a truth limits man A truth prevents his going any far… The world is changing The world knows it’s changing Heavy is the sorrow of the day
I ran up six flights of stairs to my small furnished room opened the window and began throwing out those things most important in lif…
I reached heaven and it was syrupy… It was oppressively sweet. Croaking substances stuck to my kn… Of all substances St. Michael was… I grabbed him and pasted him on my…
With a love a madness for Shelley Chatterton Rimbaud and the needy-yap of my youth has gone from ear to ear: I HATE OLD POETMEN!
I am watching them churn the last… They are waiting for me to die; They want to make buttons out of m… Where are my sisters and brothers? That tall monk there, loading my u…
Budger of history Brake of time… Toy of universe Grandest of all… Do I hate the mischievous thunder… The bumpy club of One Million B.… Catapult Da Vinci tomahawk Coc…
Budger of history Brake of time Y… Toy of universe Grandest of all s… Do I hate the mischievous thunder… The bumpy club of One Million B.… Catapult Da Vinci tomahawk Cochi…
How inseparable you and the Ameri… there to see; you and America, lik… ground, are one the same; yet how… in the state of Oregon. . . dead e… like a snow polar loping the
What simple profundities What profound simplicities To sit down among the trees and breathe with them in murmur brool and breeze—