THE AUTOPSY OF TROUT FISHING IN AMERICA This is the autopsy of Trout Fish… Fishing in America had been Lord… Missolonghi, Greece, and afterwar…

I don’t know what it is, but I distrust myself when I start to like a girl a lot.

A girl in a green mini– skirt, not very pretty, walks down the street.

With his hat on he’s about five inches taller than a taxicab.

A trout-colored wind blows through my eyes, through my finger… and I remember how the trout used to hide from the dinosaurs when they came to drink at the riv…

I like to think (and the sooner the better!) of a cybernetic meadow where mammals and computers live together in mutually

This poem was found written on a p… Brautigan in a laundromat in San…

Oh, Marcia, I want your long blonde beauty to be taught in high school, so kids will learn that God lives like music in the skin

THE PUDDING MASTER OF STANLEY BASIN Tree, snow and rock beginnings, th… lake promised us eternity, but the… thousands of silly minnows, swimmi…

Thinking hard about you I got on the bus and paid 30 cents car fare and asked the driver for two trans… before discovering

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 abou… it. I felt hopeless. Your face

I sit here, an arch-villain of rom… thinking about you. Gee, I’m sorr… I made you unhappy, but there was… I could do about it because I hav… Perhaps everything would have been…

There are no postage stamps that s… back to England three centuries ag… no postage stamps that make letter… travel back until the grave hasn’t… and John Donne stands looking out…

We stopped at perfect days and got out of the car. The wind glanced at her hair. It was as simple as that. I turned to say something—

Forget love I want to die in your yellow hair