#Americans #XXCentury #1977 #LoveIsADogFromHell
we were in bed and she started to fight: “you son of a bitch! you just wait… I’ll get you!” I began laughing:
the canaries were there, and the l… and the old woman with warts; and I was there, a child and I touched the piano keys as they talked—
Julio came by with his guitar and… latest song. Julio was famous, he wrote songs a… published books of little drawings… poems.
In the morning I heard her walkin… It was about 10:30 a.m. I was sic… She shook me. “Listen, I want you… “So what? I’ll screw her too.” “Yeah,” she laughed, “yeah.”
you go for these wenches, she said… you go for these whores, I’ll bore you. I don’t want to be shit on anymore… I said,
Jr. high went by quickly enough. About the 8th grade, going into the 9th, I broke out with acne. Many of the guys had it but not like mine. Mine was really terrible. I was the worst cas...
here I am in the ground my mouth open and
This is advance notice that it is proposed to remove you from the Postal Service or to take such other disciplinary action as may be determined to be appropriate. The proposed action is...
We got back to 1010. I had my check. I’d left word that we didn’t want to be disturbed. Tammie and I sat drinking. I’d read 5 or 6 love poems about her. “They knew who I was,” she said....
One day, just like in grammar school, like with David, a boy attached himself to me. He was small and thin and had almost no hair on top of his head. The guys called him Baldy. His real...
I cut the middle fingernail of the… finger right hand real short and I began rubbing along her cunt
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…
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...
what’s bad about all this is watching people drinking coffee and waiting. I would
I sit here on the 2nd floor hunched over in yellow pajamas still pretending to be a writer.