#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
shot off his left ear then his right, and then tore off his belt buckle with hot lead, and then
sleepy now at 4 a.m. hear the siren of a white ambulance,
I hear them outside: “does he always type this late?” “no, it’s very unusual.” “he shouldn’t type this
this fear of being what they are: dead. at least they are not out on the s… are careful to stay indoors, those pasty mad who sit alone before the…
this is my piano. the phone rings and people ask, what are you doing? how about getting drunk with us? and I say,
you’re a beast, she said your big white belly and those hairy feet. you never cut your nails and you have fat hands
I was hungover again, another heat spell was on—a week of 100 degree days. The drinking went on each night, and in the early mornings and days there was The Stone and the impossibility ...
often it is the only thing between you and impossibility. no drink,
“It’s the manager, Freddy. He has started whistling this song. He’s whistling it when I come in in the morning and he never stops, and he’s whistling it when I go home at night. It’s be...
They had this thing called Training Class, and so for 30 minutes each night, anyhow, we didn’t have to stick mail. A big Italiano got up on the lecture platform to tell us where it was....
There are sketches on the walls of… and outside a large green bus swer… insanity sprung from a waving line… says the radio, and Jane Austin,… “I am going to do her portrait on…
The bandages were helpful. L.A. County Hospital had finally come up with something. The boils drained. They didn’t vanish but they flattened a bit. Yet some new ones would appear and ri...
I’m not going to die easy; I’ve sat on your suicide beds in some of the worst holes in America,
I didn’t contest the divorce, didn’t go to court. Joyce gave me the car. She didn’t drive. All I had lost was 3 or 4 million. But I still had the post office. “I saw you with that bitch...
Making love in the sun, in the mor… in a hotel room above the alley where poor men poke for bottles; making love in the sun