This poem was found written on a paper bag by Richard
Brautigan in a laundromat in San Francisco.  The author is unknown.

By accident, you put
Your money in my
Machine (#4)
By accident, I put
My money in another
Machine (#6)
On purpose, I put
Your clothes in the
Empty machine full
Of water and no
Clothes

It was lonely.

Analysis, meaning and summary of Richard Brautigan's poem San Francisco

1 Comment

  1. Richard says:

    Seems a tad unfair that this constitutes half of the Brautigan collection here: seeing as he did not even write it.

    BOO, FOREVER
    Spinning like a ghost
    on the bottom of a
    top,
    I’m haunted by all
    the space that I
    will live without
    you.

    Now thats a Brautigan poem.

    A LYRICAL WANT, AN ENDOCRINE GLAND FANCY

    A lyrical want, an endocrine gland fancy,
    a telescope that I thought had no thorns
    have lead me to a pain that I cannot pronounce.
    It gathers around me like a convention of translators
    for a language that does not exist with all those meetings
    to attend.

    And that’s another one.

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