Letter  from  Provincetown


the beauty

of this place

is beyond me


reds and blues      of the morning sky

then      how high

white in the sky

the sun stands


you  get grays off the water          later

and   greens

wherever   you go


I can never

do it



all my writing      here         lain

around me   a study

in that failure


having been here    you know

what its   like     where I am

what I’m in              and somehow

without you              how its going


but the beauty

has saved me

taken me back


and     though beyond me

in my own terms

I am never nearly

beyond its


so  I     captive     happily bound

by these    elements

move now      as nature

not your love            sets the pace



Ivan Wendell  Hubbard 1950-1991

Courtesy of Bridget Galway and their son Blake Galway



Portrait of William Burroughs painted by Bridget Galway ©2010

New York 1960

BY: Bridget Galway

my crazy drunken aunt

who carried me everywhere

room to room

to street


candy under her bed

(mostly peppermint)

made Mom nuts    screaming

until they drove her to the bin


a ride in the country

like we were normal

looking out the back window

at clouds light speckle

through elm branches    quiet

everything ok



NY 79

he showed me the shooting galleries

the ABC’S of search for a vein

descended staircases

to broken landings

drug warmed

faces masked


everything ok



on street corners

park benches

the sound of funk

uh uhn uh  uh uhn


mostly I loved

the way my head fit into his back

half asleep

waiting for the subway