#AmericanWriters
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...
I got lucky the next day. They called my name. It was a different doctor. I stripped down. He turned a hot white light on me and looked me over. I was sitting on the edge of the examina...
I went to my place, started drinking. I snapped on the radio and found some classical music. I got my Coleman lantern out of the closet. I turned out the lights and sat playing with the...
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.”
The first thing I remember is being under something. It was a table, I saw a table leg, I saw the legs of the people, and a portion of the tablecloth hanging down. It was dark under the...
ah, Merryman, fighter on the docks, killed a man while they were unloa… bananas. mean the man he killed
he met her at the racetrack, a str… blonde with round hips, well-bosom… turned-up nose, flower mouth, in a… wearing white high-heeled shoes. she began asking him questions abo…
the German hotel was very strange… double doors to the rooms, very th… looked the park and the vasser ter… it was usually too late for breakf… would be everywhere changing sheet…
R.O.T.C. kept me away from sports while the other guys practiced every day. They made the school teams, won their letters and got the girls. My days were spent mostly marching around in...
sitting on a 2nd-floor porch at 1:… while looking out over the city. could be worse. we needn’t accomplish great things…
here I am in the ground my mouth open and
I only met one student at City College that I liked, Robert Becker. He wanted to be a writer. “I’m going to learn everything there is to learn about writing. It will be like taking a ca...
as the spirit wanes the form
feet of cheese coffeepot soul hands that hate poolsticks eyes like paperclips I prefer red wine
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.