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Journal, Day Four February 22, 2007: So I started meeting poets. Now, you didn’t walk into a bar and always find Ginsberg, Snyder, Whalen, McClure, and Corso all sitting there like a matched set, any more than you would have found Picasso, Stein, Hemingway, Fitzgerald, and McAlmon nailed into place for constant viewing. But there were some poets who were around. There was Bob [...] by

Journal, Day Three February 21, 2007: Anyway, I spent very little time in my pad. Sometimes I dropped into Frank’s Bar for a drink after work and didn’t get home for two days. Even when I was at low ebb, in the back of my mind I knew I was a regular, a guy who could run a tab, who always knew the bartender’s name, who could stand up to any obnoxious tourist, knowing Bad-Talking [...] by

Journal, Day Two February 20, 2007: I moved to San Francisco 50 years ago. It wasn’t for the poetry. In 1957, I had a degree in journalism from New York University and two years’ experience as a copy boy and editorial assistant with the New York Herald Tribune. I was ready to take my place in the dashing, hard-drinking world of reporters. All that Hildy Johnson/The Front Page [...] by

Journal, Day One February 19, 2007: Poets who have just started submitting their work to magazines are often tortured by the big questions. White envelope or tan? Flag stamps or commemoratives? Fold the paper in half or in thirds? Should I tell the editor how much I love to ski or just give the ages of my children? Against that background, we are very pleased to present the [...] by

Journal, Day Five February 23, 2006: By now it was 1960. I had quit my reporting job and was collecting $55 a week unemployment insurance, the highest in the country and enough to get me through the week if I was careful. I’d fallen into a comfortable routine: get up in late morning, read for a while, wander down to the Green Valley for a mid-day drink or two, go to see whatever [...] by