comments upon my last book of poesy: you're better than ever. you've sold out. you suck. my mother hates you. you're rich. you're the best writer in the English language. can I come see you? I write just like you do, only better. why do you drive a BMW? why don't you give more readings? can you still get it up? do you know Allen Ginsberg? what do you think of Henry Miller? will you write a foreword to my next book? I enclose a photograph of Céline. I enclose my grandfather's pocket watch. the enclosed jacket was knitted by my wife in Bavarian style. have you been drunk with Mickey Rourke? I am a young girl 19 years old and I will come and clean your house. you are a stinking bastard to tell people that Shakespeare is not readable. what do you think of Norman Mailer? why do you steal from Hemingway? why do you knock Tolstoy? I'm doing hard time and when I get out I'm coming to see you. I think you suck ass. you've saved my god-damned life. why do you hate women? I love you. I read your poems at parties. did all those things really happen to you? why do you drink? I saw you at the racetrack but I didn't bother you. I'd like to renew our relationship. do you really stay up all night? I can out-drink you. you stole it from Sherwood Anderson. did you ever meet Ezra? I am alone and I think of you every night. who the hell do you think you're fooling? my tits aren't much but I've got great legs. fuck you, man. my wife hates you. will you please read the enclosed poems and comment? I am going to publish all those letters you wrote me. you jack-off motherfucker, you're not fooling anybody.