Christ, I need a drink. I know my liver is toast and drinking is a death sentence. I know all this. But I cannot think of an elixir that takes me down from the dark place and force-feed...
I take a suitcase of downbeat irrelevancies and memories with me through
I see dead bodies rising up as if under some mystical persuasion, bodies going home,
nothing here. sky a lint colored marmalade. outside a man in a blue tee shirt
In my dream, I am cutting the lawn at my grandfather’s house.
The musician hated fame, the thought of it made him sick. Bob Dylan wanted to cut
reading the news he discovers the boys at NASA are using something called
this leg a genetic mutation bent askew a latitude of pain. take
It was Andrei Tarkovsky who said the artist feeds on his childhood his entire life.
sitting here very quietly listening to the world. the rhythm… thump of a drain drop repeated fro… far off a car laboring to reach di… the beat of a bass
Osamu Dazai committed suicide with his beautician mistress in 19… The lovers drowned themselves in the cherry tree-lined Tamagawa…
In school they taught us things not compatible with the real world. It is said
It is really getting to me. Everyone is talking about death. I heard an old friend died
near the end Dashiell Hammett was a hermit, his house was a mess, falling apart, and Lillian Hellma… had to take care of him.
If I see him again, I will complain to no one nowhere. There is not a reliable complaint department.