stamped self-addressed envelope enclosed. There is a mucky dismal breed out there…unmoral, immoral unscrupulous…homos, hounds, sadists; curious, blank children; blood-drinkers…
And then some people wonder why I write an occasional anti-editor poem. You and Gypsy are a pair of the few editors I know who operate in a professional and straight manner, and the gods have been more than good to me in that you have seen some light in some of my work and are handing me this OUTSIDER OF YEAR shining tray of honor, plus the book.
----
[To Jon and Louise Webb]
[December 21, 1962?]
Got to thinking about the telephone call the other night, and how you weren’t going to mention this or that, and well, I think pretty slowly, but I hope now, thinking it over, that you aren’t going to make a white rabbit outa me. I’ve got nothing to hide. Feel free. It’s a person’s eccentricities that give him whatever he has. Don’t be too cautious with excerpts from letters, except I agree with you that mentioning a name directly (false initials will do) might be bad taste, especially if that person has very little literary standing. If he has literary standing, use the name and the hell with it. I hope this does not get to you too late. That I drink or play the ponies or have been in jail is of no shame to me.
As you can see, I have recovered from my depression [* * *]
[To Jon and Louise Webb]
December 27, 1962
Got your six page letter which I read through a couple of times while drinking a Miller’s, and the sun’s out good, but it’s cold & I have a heater on and the stove on, and somehow there’s a feeling of peace today—I feel like a fat man who ate a lot of turkey, and since this feeling does not arrive too often, I take it, I take of the good of it without examining it, without feeling selfish. That’s what’s good about being 42: you know when to go with what’s left of the soul. I spent Xmas in bed asleep. I hate to go out on the streets on Xmas day. The fuckers act like they are out of their minds. They strain at the thing; round-eyed and hacked-out they drive through red lights, they look at each other and say things but they don’t know what they’re saying: their mouths have long ago been cut out and thrown away. Christmas, to most of them, is like owning a new car. They’ve got to do it. They don’t have the guts—or the sense—to pass it up. Enough. Did I say I was feeling at peace? [* * *]
----
[To Jon Webb]
[December 28, 1962]
No, as to title, I don’t care for Naked in the Womb or the Alcatraz one. When I said you think up title, I was only thinking in terms of a summary title such as Selected Poems or etc. As to the other type of title, I don’t think it would be fair for you to submit titles any more than it would be fair for you to put one of your poems in there under my name. Surely, you understand this? I have been trying to think up a summary title, but if you want a straight title, I will send you a half dozen or so in a day or two. I’m glad this came up. Please do not use one of your titles that is not a summary title (such as Collected Poems, Selected Poems ) as this would take the heart out of me. I will be strictly dreaming titles from here on in, say like Beer and Frogs Legs or I Can’t Stand the Sunshine When People Walk Around in It or For Jocks, Chambermaids, Thieves and Bassoon Players . I almost like the last one. It carries summation plus the rest. Yes. [* * *] or Tonic for the Mole . Meaning these type of poems for those who duck out to the world, ya know. or Minstrels Would Go Crazy Singing This .[* * *]
Know it cost you money to have your man work on photos but glad he perked up a couple. I cannot get over the nightmare of those photos, and maybe some day I can write about it, but it’s still too close. [* * *]
----
• 1963 •
The title settled on is a phrase taken from a poem by Robinson Jeffers. Permission to use it had to be obtained
And then some people wonder why I write an occasional anti-editor poem. You and Gypsy are a pair of the few editors I know who operate in a professional and straight manner, and the gods have been more than good to me in that you have seen some light in some of my work and are handing me this OUTSIDER OF YEAR shining tray of honor, plus the book.
----
[To Jon and Louise Webb]
[December 21, 1962?]
Got to thinking about the telephone call the other night, and how you weren’t going to mention this or that, and well, I think pretty slowly, but I hope now, thinking it over, that you aren’t going to make a white rabbit outa me. I’ve got nothing to hide. Feel free. It’s a person’s eccentricities that give him whatever he has. Don’t be too cautious with excerpts from letters, except I agree with you that mentioning a name directly (false initials will do) might be bad taste, especially if that person has very little literary standing. If he has literary standing, use the name and the hell with it. I hope this does not get to you too late. That I drink or play the ponies or have been in jail is of no shame to me.
As you can see, I have recovered from my depression [* * *]
[To Jon and Louise Webb]
December 27, 1962
Got your six page letter which I read through a couple of times while drinking a Miller’s, and the sun’s out good, but it’s cold & I have a heater on and the stove on, and somehow there’s a feeling of peace today—I feel like a fat man who ate a lot of turkey, and since this feeling does not arrive too often, I take it, I take of the good of it without examining it, without feeling selfish. That’s what’s good about being 42: you know when to go with what’s left of the soul. I spent Xmas in bed asleep. I hate to go out on the streets on Xmas day. The fuckers act like they are out of their minds. They strain at the thing; round-eyed and hacked-out they drive through red lights, they look at each other and say things but they don’t know what they’re saying: their mouths have long ago been cut out and thrown away. Christmas, to most of them, is like owning a new car. They’ve got to do it. They don’t have the guts—or the sense—to pass it up. Enough. Did I say I was feeling at peace? [* * *]
----
[To Jon Webb]
[December 28, 1962]
No, as to title, I don’t care for Naked in the Womb or the Alcatraz one. When I said you think up title, I was only thinking in terms of a summary title such as Selected Poems or etc. As to the other type of title, I don’t think it would be fair for you to submit titles any more than it would be fair for you to put one of your poems in there under my name. Surely, you understand this? I have been trying to think up a summary title, but if you want a straight title, I will send you a half dozen or so in a day or two. I’m glad this came up. Please do not use one of your titles that is not a summary title (such as Collected Poems, Selected Poems ) as this would take the heart out of me. I will be strictly dreaming titles from here on in, say like Beer and Frogs Legs or I Can’t Stand the Sunshine When People Walk Around in It or For Jocks, Chambermaids, Thieves and Bassoon Players . I almost like the last one. It carries summation plus the rest. Yes. [* * *] or Tonic for the Mole . Meaning these type of poems for those who duck out to the world, ya know. or Minstrels Would Go Crazy Singing This .[* * *]
Know it cost you money to have your man work on photos but glad he perked up a couple. I cannot get over the nightmare of those photos, and maybe some day I can write about it, but it’s still too close. [* * *]
----
• 1963 •
The title settled on is a phrase taken from a poem by Robinson Jeffers. Permission to use it had to be obtained
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