Messy, isn't it?
While discussing the monster:
Deer Tracks:Beautiful, sobbinghigh-geared fuckingand then to lie silentlylike deer tracks in thefreshly-fallen snow beside
30 cents, two transfers, loveThinking hard about you I got on the bus and paid 30 cents car fare and asked the driver for two transfers before discovering that I was alone.
Now it was close to sunset and the earth was beginning to cool off in the manner of eternity and office girls were returning like penguins from Montgomery Street.
He'd had enough suffering right now to last him forever with plenty left over for others if they didn't have enough and wanted to have some more.
Congratulations, I said. It's so wonderful to write a book. I walked all the way here, she said. I started at midnight. I would have gotten here sooner if I weren't so old. Where do you live? I said....
Kadınlar neden buna benzer bedenleri olmasını isterler bir türlü anlamıyorum. Ne kadar acayip görünüyor, onlar da kalkıp böyle bir bedene sahip olmak için deli gibi uğraşıyorlar, ne pahasına olursa ol...
Punitive ghosts like steam-driven tennis courtshaunt the apples in my nonexistent orchard.I remember when there were just worms out thereand they danced in moonlit cores on warm Septembernights.
We stepped outside rather hurriedly and down the street to anonymous sanctuary among the buildings of San Francisco.Promise me till your dying day, you'll believe that a Mellon was a Confederate gener...
There are not too many fables about man's misuse of sunflower seeds.
Like some kind of strange vacuum cleaner I tried to console him. I recited the same old litanies that you say to people when you try to help their broken hearts, but words can't help at all.It's just...
I drank coffee and read old books and waited for the year to end.
Той я погледна в очите. Те бяха тесни черни вселени, изпълнени с приближаваща мекота.
He was leaving for America, often only a place in the mind.
WoodWe age in darkness like woodand watch our phantoms changetheir clothesof shingles and boards
When he said this, it was not a form of criticism. It was just a simple observation that led to another bite from the movie on his plate called The Old Man and the Stew.
One spring afternoon as a child in the strange town of Portland, I walked down to a different street corner, and saw a row of old houses, huddled together like seals on a rock.
Hinged to forgetfulness like a door,she slowly closed out of sight,and she was the woman I loved,but too many times she slept likea mechanical deer in my caresses,and I ached in the metal silenceof he...
For fear you will be alone