#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
terror finally becomes almost bearable but never quite terror creeps like a cat crawls like a cat
I had this room in front on DeLon… and I used to sit for hours in the daytime looking out the front window.
After dinner or lunch or whatever it was—with my crazy 12 hour night I was no longer sure what was what—I said, "Look, baby, I’m sorry, but don’t you realize that this job is driving me...
if I suffer at this typewriter think how I’d feel among the lettuce-pickers of Salinas?
To end up alone in a tomb of a room without cigarettes or wine— just a lightbulb
what’s bad about all this is watching people drinking coffee and waiting. I would
long ago he edited a little magazi… was up in San Francisco during the beat era during the reading-poetry-with-jaz… and I remember him because he neve…
the vultures at the zoo (all three of them) sit very quietly in their caged tree and below
sun-stroked women without men on a Santa Monica Monday; the men are working or in jail or insane;
A day or so later I got a poem in the mail from Lydia. It was a long poem and it began: Come out, old troll, Come out of your dark hole, old troll, Come out into the sunlight with us an...
you’re a beast, she said your big white belly and those hairy feet. you never cut your nails and you have fat hands
awaken at 11:30 a.m. get into my chinos and a clean gre… open a Miller’s, and nothing in the mailbox but the Berkeley Tribe
“You ought to try to be like Abe Mortenson,” said my mother, “he gets straight A’s. Why can’t you ever get any A’s?” “Henry is dead on his ass,” said my father. “Sometimes I can’t belie...
eating cold plums in bed she told me about the German who owned everything on the block except the custom drapery shop and he tried to buy
I even hear the mountains the way they laugh up and down their blue sides and down in the water the fish cry