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...

neither does this mean the dead are at the door begging bread before

there was a frozen tree that I wan… but the shells came down and in Vegas looking across at a g… at 3:30 in the morning, I died without nails, without a co…

the boy walks with his muddy feet… soul talking about recitals, virtuosi,… the lesser known novels of Dostoev… talking about how he corrected a w…

I have been looking at the same lampshade for 5 years and it has gathered

the droll noon where squadrons of worms creep up like stripteasers to be raped by blackbirds. I go outside

We had a 3:30 pm flight out of Los Angeles that Saturday. At 2 pm I went up and knocked on Tammie’s door. She wasn’t there. I want back to my place and sat down. The phone rang. It was ...

Dee Dee had to pick up her son at the airport. He was coming home from England for his vacation. He was 17, she told me, and his father was an ex-concert pianist. But he’d fallen for sp...

listening to Bruckner on the radio wondering why I’m not half mad over the latest breakup with my latest girlfriend wondering why I’m not driving the…

my friend is worried about dying he lives in Frisco I live in L.A. he goes to the gym and works with the iron and hits

the bulls are grand as the side of… and although they kill them for th… it is the bull that burns the fire… and although there are cowardly bu… there are cowardly matadors and co…

there are many single women in the… with one or two or three children and one wonders where the husbands have gone or where the lovers have gone

one of Lorca’s best lines is, “agony, always agony ...” think of this when you