Richard Brautigan

Yup. A long lazy September look In the mirror Say it’s true. I’m 31 And my nose is growing Old. It starts about 1/2 An inch Below the bridge And strolls geriatrically Down For

ANOTHER METHOD OF MAKING WALNUT CATSUP And this is a very small cookbook for Trout Fishing in America As if Trout Fishing in America were a rich gourmet and Trout Fishing in America had

I don’t care how God-damn smart These guys are: I’m bored. It’s been raining like hell all day long And there’s nothing to do. Written January 24, 1967 While poet-in-residence at The California Institute

WITNESS FOR TROUT FISHING IN AMERICA PEACE In San Francisco around Easter time last year, they had a Trout fishing in America peace parade. They had thousands Of red stickers printed and they pasted

WORSEWICK Worsewick Hot Springs was nothing fancy. Somebody put some Boards across the creek. That was it. The boards dammed up the creek enough to form a huge Bathtub there, and the creek flowed

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 like A mechanical deer in my caresses, And I

I am standing in the cemetery at Byrds, Texas. What did Judy say? “God-forsaken is beautiful, too.” A very old man who has cancer on his face and takes Care of the cemetery, is

SEA, SEA RIDER The man who owned the bookstore was not magic. He was not a Three-legged crow on the dandelion side of the mountain. He was, of course, a Jew, a retired merchant

With the rain falling Surgically against the roof, I ate a dish of ice cream That looked like Kafka’s hat. It was a dish of ice cream Tasting like an operating table With the

SANDBOX MINUS JOHN DILLINGER EQUALS WHAT? Often I return to the cover of Trout Fishing in America. I Took the baby and went down there this morning. They were Watering the cover with big

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 My glasses on.

I like to think (and The sooner the better!) Of a cybernetic meadow Where mammels and computers Live together in mutually Programming harmony Like pure water Touching clear sky. I like to think (right

If you will die for me, I will die for you And our graves will be like two lovers washing Their clothes together In a laundromat If you will bring the soap I will

It’s night And a numbered beauty Lapses at the wind, Chortles with the Branches of a tree, giggles, Plays shadow dance With a dead kite, Cajoles affection From falling leaves, And knows four Other

A girl in a green mini- Skirt, not very pretty, walks Down the street. A businessman stops, turns To stare at her ass That looks like a moldy Refrigerator. There are now 200,000,000 people

THE HUNCHBACK TROUT The creek was made narrow by little green trees that grew Too close together. The creek was like 12, 845 telephone Booths in a row with high Victorian ceilings and all

I sit here, an arch-villain of romance, Thinking about you. Gee, I’m sorry I made you unhappy, but there was nothing I could do about it because I have to be free. Perhaps everything

A trout-colored wind blows Through my eyes, through my fingers, And I remember how the trout Used to hide from the dinosaurs When they came to drink at the river. The trout hid in

I go to bed in Los Angeles thinking About you. Pissing a few moments ago I looked down at my penis Affectionately. Knowing it has been inside You twice today makes me Feel beautiful.