#AmericanWriters
Yup. A long lazy September look in the mirror say it’s true. I’m 31
ANOTHER METHOD OF MAKING WALNUT CATSUP And this is a very small cookbook… as if Trout Fishing in America we… Trout Fishing in America had Mar…
THE PUDDING MASTER OF STANLEY BASIN Tree, snow and rock beginnings, th… lake promised us eternity, but the… thousands of silly minnows, swimmi…
THE HUNCHBACK TROUT The creek was made narrow by littl… too close together. The creek was… booths in a row with high Victoria… taken off and all the backs of the…
At 1:30 in the morning a fart smells like a marriage between an avocado and a fish head. I have to get out of bed to write this down without
I am standing in the cemetery at… What did Judy say? ‘God-forsaken… A very old man who has cancer on h… care of the cemetery, is raking a… manner as to almost (polish it lik…
I go to bed in Los Angeles thinki… about you.
Three crates of Private Eye Lett… the name and drawing of a detectiv… with magnifying glass on the sides of the crates of lettuce, form a great cross in man’s imagin…
I like to think (and the sooner the better!) of a cybernetic meadow where mammals and computers live together in mutually
We left Little Redfish for Lake Josephus, traveling along the good names ' from Stanley to Capehorn to Seafoam to the Rapid River, up Float Creek, past the Greyhound Mine and then to ...
A trout-colored wind blows through my eyes, through my finger… and I remember how the trout used to hide from the dinosaurs when they came to drink at the riv…
If I were to live my life in catfish forms in scaffolds of skin and whiskers at the bottom of a pond and you were to come by
Oh, pretty girl, you have trapped yourself in the wrong body.Twenty extra pounds hang like a lumpy tapestry on your perfect mammal na… Three months ago you were like a
La voyageuse qui traverse les Hal… Marchait sur la pointe des pieds Le désespoir roulait au ciel ses g… Et dans le sac à main il y avait… Que seule a respiré la marraine de…
Forget love I want to die in your yellow hair