There was death in that place on the hill. I knew it the first day I walked out the screen door and into the backyard. A zing– ing binging buzzing whining sound came right at me: 10,000...

I always wanted to ball Henry Miller, she said, but by the time I got there it was too late. damn it, I said, you girls

rose red sunlight; take it apart in the garage like a puzzle:

I blacked out after that. I guess I had consumed more whiskey than I thought. I don’t remember arriving at Nicole’s. I awakened in the morning with my back to somebody in a strange bed....

this man used to be an interesting writer, he was able to say brisk and refreshing things. at the time

the dead can sleep they don’t get up and rage they don’t have a wife. her white face like a flower in a closed

the girls are coming home in their… and I sit by the window and watch. there’s a girl in a red dress driving a white car

no one is sorry I am leaving, not even I; but there should be a minstrel or at least a glass of wine. bothers the young most, I think:

are more beautiful than movie stars and they lounge on the lawn sunbathing

she was hot, she was so hot I didn’t want anybody else to have… and if I didn’t get home on time she’d be gone, and I couldn’t bear… I’d go mad. . .

Within a day or two, about 1 pm in the afternoon there was a knock at my door. It was a painter, Monty Riff, or so he informed me. He also told me that I used to get drunk with him when...

places to hunt places to hide are getting harder to find, and pet canaries and goldfish too, did you… that?