#AmericanWriters
In the morning Dee Dee drove me to the Sunset Strip for breakfast. The Mercedes was black and shone in the sun. We drove past the billboards and the nightclubs and the fancy restaurants...
women don’t know how to love, she told me. you know how to love but women just want to leech.
my first and only wife painted and she talked to me about it: it’s all so painful
terrible arguments. and, at last, lying peacefully on her large bed which is spread in red with cool patterns o…
I don’t beat the walls with my fis… I just sit but it rushes in a tide of it. the woman in the court behind me h…
as I go to the escalator young fellow and a lovely young gi… are ahead of me. her pants, her blouse are skintigh… as we ascend
One morning a few days later I entered Lydia’s courtyard as she was walking in from the alley. She had been over to see her friend Tina who lived in an apartment house on the corner. Sh...
my doctor has just come into his o… from surgery. he meets me in the men’s john. “God damn,” he says to me, “where did you find her? oh, I jus…
he was just a cat cross-eyed, dirty white with pale blue eyes
schoolgirls in pantyhose sitting on bus stop benches looking tired at 13 with their raspberry lipstick. it’s hot in the sun
once bought a toy rabbit at a department store and now he sits and ponders me with pink sheer eyes: He wants golf balls and glass
half-past nowhere alone in the crumbling tower of myself stumbling in this the
they photograph you on your porch and on your couch and standing in the courtyard or leaning against your car these photographers
first time my father overheard me… this bit of music he asked me, “what is it?” “it’s called Love For Three Oran… I informed him.
the rag. she sat there, glooming. I couldn’t do anything with her. it was raining. she got up and left.