#AmericanWriters
the elephants are caked with mud a… and the rhinos don’t move the zebras are stupid dead stems and the lions don’t roar the lions don’t care
drive to the beach at night in the winter and sit and look at the burned-dow… wonder why they just let it sit th… in the water.
Lydia met me at the airport. She was horny as usual. “Jesus Christ,” she said. “I’m hot! I play with myself but it doesn’t do any good.” “Lydia, my leg is still in terrible shape. I jus...
After 3 years I made “regular.” That meant holiday pay (subs didn’t get paid for holidays) and a 40 hour week with 2 days off. The Stone was also forced to assign me as relief man to 5 ...
Bach, I said, he had 20 children. he played the horses during the da… he f—ed at night and drank in the mornings. he wrote music in between.
Vallejo writing about loneliness while starving to death; Van Gogh’s ear rejected by a whore;
the kid went back to New York Cit… he met in a kibbutz. he left his mother at the age of 32, a well-kept fellow, sense of h… wore the same pair of shorts
I have a saying, “the tough ones a… back.” but Vera was kinder than most, and so I was surprised when she arrived that night
“what?” they say, “you got a computer?” it’s like I have sold out to the enemy. I had no idea so many
There was a gang of us down there. 150 or 200. There were tedious papers to fill out. Then we all stood up and faced the flag. The guy who swore us in was the same guy who had sworn me ...
you sit on the couch with me tonight new woman. have you seen the
On Thursday night Bobby phoned again. “Hey, man, what are you doing?” “Oh, come on, man, I’ll just stay for a few beers. . . .” “You treat him mean. He gets lonely when his wife is at w...
they’d come around and they’d ask “you finished your 2nd novel yet?” “no.”
That evening after dinner Joanna produced some mescaline. “You ever tried this stuff?” Joanna had some paints and brushes and paper spread on the table. Then I remembered she was an art...
Lydia liked parties. And Harry was a party-giver. So we were on our way to Harry Ascot’s. Harry was the editor of Retort, a little magazine. His wife wore long see-through dresses, show...