#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
After English class one day Mrs. Curtis asked me to stay. She had great legs and a lisp and there was something about the legs and the lisp together that heated me up. She was about 32,...
The 5th grade was a little better. The other students seemed less hostile and I was growing larger physically. I still wasn’t chosen for the homeroom teams but I was threatened less. Da...
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
luxury ocean liners crossing the water full of the indolent and rich passing from this place to that
the old folks play a game in the park overlooking the sea shoving markers across cement with wooden sticks. four play, two on each side
I found a room on Temple Street in the Filipino district. It was $3.50 a week, upstairs on the second floor. I paid the landlady—a middle-aged blond—a week’s rent. The toilet and tub we...
Somehow the money slipped away after that and soon I left the track and sat around in my apartment waiting for the 90 days’ leave to run out. My nerves were raw from the drinking and th...
I forget the beginning time. 6 or 7 p.m. Something like that. All you did was sit with a handful of letters, take a streetmap and figure your run. It was easy. All the drivers took much...
I awaken about noon and go out to… in my old torn bathrobe. I’m hung over hair down in my eyes barefoot
I’d tell them to have an unhappy l… affair, hemorrhoids, bad teeth and to drink cheap wine, avoid opera and golf and chess, to keep switching the head of thei…
it’s the same as before or the other time or the time before that. here’s a cock and here’s a cunt
this head like a saucer decorated with everything as lip to lip we hang in mechanical joy; my hands blaze with arias
the higher you climb the greater the pressure. those who manage to endure learn
this man sometimes forgets who he is. sometimes he thinks he’s the Pope. other times he thinks he’s a
the wind blows hard to night and it’s a cold wind and I think about the boys on the row. hope some of them have a bottle