#richard brautigan

[firstfullmoon]

Richard Brautigan, “Boo, Forever”

[petaltexturedskies]

Richard Brautigan, from "The Castle of the Cormorants" in Big Sur: Poems

[albertcamusofficial]

"I Was Trying to Describe You to Someone" by Richard Brautigan (via khanombang )

[typewriter-worries]

It's world poetry day so here are some of my favorite poems:

Failing and Flying by Jack Gilbert

What the Living Do by Marie Howe

Night Walk by Franz Wright

Crossword by Lloyd Schwartz

The Great Fires by Jack Gilbert

Love Train by Tomás Q. Morín

Divorced Fathers and Pizza Crusts by Mark Halliday

Perhaps the World Ends Here by Joy Harjo

in another string of the multiverse, perhaps by Michaella Batten

acknowledgments by Danez Smith

Death Wish by Josh Alex Baker

San Francisco by Richard Brautigan

How to Watch Your Brother Die by Michael Lassell

You Are the Penultimate Love of My Life by Rebecca Hazelton

On Political(ized) Life by Kanika Lawton

All the Dead Boys Look Like Me by Christopher Soto

It Was the Animals by Natalie Diaz

In Time by W.S. Merwin

It Is Maybe Time to Admit That Michael Jordan Definitely Pushed Off by Hanif Abdurraqib

Dear Life by Maya C. Popa

I Could Touch It by Ellen Bass

To The Young Who Want To Die by Gwendolyn Brooks

Accident Report in the Tall, Tall Weeds by Ada Limón

[asoftepiloguemylove]

NOTHING IN THE WORLD BELONGS TO ME BUT MY LOVE // ON LOVE, DESPITE

"The Number of the Beast Is 666," Hannibal (2013-2015) dir. Guillermo Navarro // unknown // pinterest // Richard Brautigan "My Name," In Watermelon Sugar // Michael Cunningham The Hours // pinterest // デビルマン Devilman (1972-1973) cr. 永井潔 Go Nagai // Richard Siken "The Torn-Up Road," Crush

[adventuresofalgy]

To all Algy's friends: old friends, new friends, and friends he is yet to meet…

Although undeniably beautiful – that is, on those few days when it is visible at all and not entirely obscured by dense Scotch mist or driving rain – the remote spot on the wild west coast of the Scottish Highlands which is Algy's home is also a pretty lonely place for a fluffy bird who was born into a busy colony of many other birds, far, far away.

Having washed up here, on this shimmering beach, after falling into the ocean one day long ago when he was still little more than a wee fluffy chick, Algy found himself alone and without friends, until one bright spring day he decided to try sharing his adventures with the inhabitants of that remarkable world known as tumblr.

At first Algy continued to be alone, but a fluffy bird does not give up easily, and before long he found that he had a handful of friends, then a few more, then a few more, and then more, and more, and more!

But one day, after he had enjoyed many happy years on tumblr, Algy fell asleep, and he slept for a long, long time… in fact, for very much too long! And when he did finally awake, and realised how much time had passed, he was terribly afraid that his old friends would have forgotten him, and that he might find himself alone once more, just as he had been all those many years ago.

But it was not so! To Algy's astonishment and delight he discovered that most of his old friends were still inhabiting the tumblr world, and not only had they not forgotten him, but they positively welcomed him back. What joy!

And since that day when he returned, a month or so ago, Algy has been able to share his adventures again, with all kinds of amazing people around the world: old people and young people and people in between; people of many different countries and cultures, and people of widely varying personalities and persuasions. What an amazing privilege and delight for a daft fluffy bird!

Algy has known some of his friends for many years, and some for only a day. Some have seen a large number of his adventures, and some have only seen one or two.

But to all his friends out there in the tumblrverse Algy says a truly enormous THANK YOU. Algy loves you all, and he sends you all the fluffiest of fluffy hugs. 🤗

And to anyone drifting in the tumblr world who is still feeling lonely (and Algy guesses there are quite a few…), he dedicates this poem, and says that if you were to come by one evening and look into Algy's home, and say to yourself "I wish somebody loved me… I wonder if there are any fluffy birds in there" then Algy would love you too, and be your fluffy friend ❤️

If I were to live my life in catfish forms in scaffolds of skin and whiskers at the bottom of a pond and you were to come by    one evening when the moon was shining down into my dark home and stand there at the edge    of my affection and think, “It’s beautiful here by this pond. I wish    somebody loved me,” I’d love you and be your catfish friend and drive such lonely thoughts from your mind and suddenly you would be    at peace, and ask yourself, “I wonder if there are any catfish in this pond? It seems like a perfect place for them.”

[Algy is quoting the poem Your Catfish Friend by the 20th century American writer Richard Brautigan, whose work had quite an influence on his assistant when she was younger ☺️]

[drearydaffodil]

I drank coffee and read old books and waited for the year to end.

Richard Brautigan, Trout Fishing In America

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Richard Brautigan

[apoemaday]

Impasse

by Richard Brautigan

I talked a good hello but she talked an even better good-bye.

[johbeil]

My Concern for Your Aloe Vera Plant

Dedicated to Richard Brautigan One of its leaves, turned a little yellow, lies on the ground On the tiled floor On the red-tiled floor On the floor tiled with coarse red-brown tiles One should always be as precise as possible, to avoid misunderstandings as much as possible and to convey the best possible picture of the facts (Cont.) Yesterday you had two of these leaves in your hand when you…

[dabiconcordia]

“I’ll affect you slowly as if you were having a picnic in a dream. There will be no ants. It won’t rain.” ― Richard Brautigan

[aeide-thea]

Your Catfish Friend

If I were to live my life in catfish forms in scaffolds of skin and whiskers at the bottom of a pond and you were to come by    one evening when the moon was shining down into my dark home and stand there at the edge    of my affection and think, "It's beautiful here by this pond. I wish    somebody loved me," I'd love you and be your catfish friend and drive such lonely thoughts from your mind and suddenly you would be    at peace, and ask yourself, "I wonder if there are any catfish in this pond? It seems like a perfect place for them."

   —Richard Brautigan (1989)

[relativefict1on]

Twin Plagues (Wednesday) & Revenge of the Lawn (Richard Brautigan)

[okuryazarlar]

[victusinveritas]

-Richard Brautigan

[mia-ugly]