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Poet: Richard Brautigan
Poem: Man
Comment 1 of 1, added on December 6th, 2008 at 9:25 PM.
Fishing With Brautigan
Brautigan and I just left Vesuvio and stood leaning against the building using City Lights as a wind break.
How do you come up with your material” I asked.
“Huh?”
“Your poems, where do they come from?”
“Dunno” He said.
With his peacoat collar pulled up and leftover beer clinging to his mustache, he squinted and pointed to the street.
“See that man over there? With his hat on he’s five inched taller than the taxicab.”
“What, that guy doesn’t have a hat on.”
I lit a cigarette and it started to rain in California.
“Hey man, have you ever been trout fishing?”
scot from United States
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Fishing With Brautigan
Brautigan and I just left Vesuvio and stood leaning against the building using City Lights as a wind break.
How do you come up with your material” I asked.
“Huh?”
“Your poems, where do they come from?”
“Dunno” He said.
With his peacoat collar pulled up and leftover beer clinging to his mustache, he squinted and pointed to the street.
“See that man over there? With his hat on he’s five inched taller than the taxicab.”
“What, that guy doesn’t have a hat on.”
I lit a cigarette and it started to rain in California.
“Hey man, have you ever been trout fishing?”
scot from United States