Jon Webb had probably solicited a tribute to Patchen to be published in the “homage” section of Outsider 4/5 (1969).

[To Jon and Louise Webb]

May 17, 1967

[* * *] On the Patchen thing, I don’t know. you jumped me pretty hard once for a semi-direct statement on Patchen in the foreword to the Harold Norse Ole issue, but really, in a sense, the statement meant that all men with bad backs should be cared for; but P. seems to be a pretty delicate subject to discuss. I suppose it’s easier to discuss Patchen than to be him. I suppose that if I were flat on my back I wouldn’t be whistling Hearts and Flowers either. but still doesn’t seem morally right to take the issue from you and suddenly go new directions. but how the hell did I get shooting my mouth on this? insomnia? that’s no excuse.

[To Carl Weissner]

June ending 1967

I am on the edge of brain-hammer, that is, I have to pass this test in glass cage in order to hold chicken-shit job that is killing me. have to memorize these little numbers exactly, know them off the top of my elbow, like tab: blackburn wlb 61, briggs 79, coolidge, rancho 22, griff 27, marV 31; san fernando rd.N., 1 linc., glass 5, Griff 47-West…so on, so on. pages and pages, and I wait wait wait and wait to study until the thing is upon me like a tiger. I read it while going down the escalator to the scheme room, I read it while I sleep, while I fuck, while I eat an orange, while I shit. it is a trick to eat the remainder of my brain and they know exactly what they are doing. but enough to that, just to let you know if I sound a bit strange, not quite like me—this is the reason.

book of poems coming, Black Sparrow Press, they are old poems that somebody found in a bag in a closet, to be called At Terror Street and Agony Way. editor coming over tonight, wants me to illustrate book but when in the hell can I illustrate book?—eastern-e.l.a., 1 n, haz 9 n, els 17n, Is-e.l.a. ????? I have thousands of lost poems, lost books gather that never came out; these are just some that happened to show up. also may get grant to do my novel, if I am lucky and am able to fill out the papers by July and mail them in. I’ll know by October. shit, it would be sweet to get paid to write! to just sit here and bang bang bang, and get paid to do what I have to do anyhow—like getting paid to shit or fuck, what? too much but worth a try. and prob. will not happen. just like the Pulitzer; I got nominated but they gave it to some woman. I got beat by a slit. well. what’s all this prize and grant shit, anyhow? for the profs, for the goody-goodies. I ought to know better. [* * *]