Today I checked out a few books of Richard Brautigan's. I'd briefly explored his poetry last year, gave up on him, and once again I have returned. It's not that I think his work is particularly good. In fact, I think most of it's pretty pathetic, cheap, and of no literary merit whatsoever. And yet, I like it. So there.
I Live in the Twentieth CenturyAnd this last one, he wrote for me. Hey thanks Brautigan! Forgive my editing.
I live in the Twentieth Century
and you lie here beside me. You
were unhappy when you fell asleep.
There was nothing I could do about
it. I felt hopeless. Your face
is so beautiful that I cannot stop
to describe it, and there's nothing
I can do to make you happy while
She tries to get things out of men
that she can't get because she's not
April 7, 1969
I feel so bad today
that I want to write a poem.
I don't care: any poem, this
All Girls Should Have a Poem
All girls should have a poem
written for them even if
we have to turn this ***** world
upside down to do it.
March 16, 1969