old grey-haired waitresses in cafes at night have given it up, and as I walk down sidewalks of light and look into windows

she was a short one getting fat and she had once been beautiful and she drank the wine she drank the wine in bed and

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 ...

One morning about 10 a.m. the phon… I recognized the voice and began t… “Yes, yes, Miss Graves, but go on… “So therefore we have notified the… “And you are scheduled to throw yo…

at North Avenue 21 drunk tank you… there was always some guy who woul… way to the crapper and then you would curse him good,… he would know enough to either be…

I had to fly to Illinois to give a reading at the University. I hated readings, but they helped with the rent and maybe they helped sell books. They got me out of east Hollywood, they g...

what’s bad about all this is watching people drinking coffee and waiting. I would

swans die in the Spring too and there it floated dead on a Sunday sideways circling in the current

I took it home, opened the beer, got into bed and began. It started well. It was about how Janko had lived in small rooms and starved while trying to find a job. He had trouble with the...

I cross the room to the last wall the last window the last pink sun with its arms around the world

sun-stroked women without men on a Santa Monica Monday; the men are working or in jail or insane;

he packaged it up neatly in differ… sending the legs to an aunt in St.… the head to a scoutmaster in Brook… the belly to a cross-eyed butcher… the female organs were sent to a y…