#AmericanWriters
One day I was at the bar between races and I saw this woman. God or somebody keeps creating women and tossing them out on the streets, and this one’s ass is too big and that one’s tits ...
once we were young at this machine. . . drinking
the essence of the belly like a white balloon sacked is disturbing like the running of feet on the stairs
I laugh sometimes when I think ab… say Céline at a typewriter or Dostoevsky... or Hamsun...
I went into the bends. I got drunker and stayed drunker than a shit skunk in Purgatory. I even had the butcher knife against my throat one night in the kitchen and then I thought, easy,...
this head like a saucer decorated with everything as lip to lip we hang in mechanical joy; my hands blaze with arias
he talked about Steinbeck and Tho… wrote like a cross between the two… and I lived in a hotel on Figuero… close to the bars and he lived further uptown in a s…
absolutely sesamoid said the skeleton shoving his chalky foot upon my desk, and that was it,
as the spirit wanes the form
16 years old during the depression I’d come home drunk and all my clothing— shorts, shirts, stockings—
Slipping keenly into bright ashes, target of vanilla tears your sure body lit candles for men on dark nights, and now your night is darker
the critics now have me drinking champagne and driving a BMW and also married to a socialite from
The subs themselves made Jonstone possible by obeying his impossible orders. I couldn’t see how a man of such obvious cruelty could be allowed to have his position. The regulars didn’t ...
I been readin’ you for a long time… I just put Billy Boy to bed, he got 7 mean ticks from somewhere… I got 2, my husband, Benny, he got 3.
it is the man you’ve never seen wh… keeps you going, the one who might arrive someday. he isn’t out on the streets or