#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
The flies are angry bits of life; why are they so angry? it seems they want more, it seems almost as if they are angry
Our English teacher, Miss Gredis, was the absolute best. She was a blonde with a long sharp nose. Her nose wasn’t much good but you didn’t notice it when you looked at the rest of her. ...
went for a walk on Hollywood Boul… looked down and there was a large… walking beside me. his pace was exactly the same as m… we stopped at traffic signals toge…
A month went by. R.A. Dwight, the editor of Dogbite Press wrote and asked me to do a foreword to Keesing’s Selected Poems. Keesing, with the help of his death, was at last going to get ...
He hinted at times that I was a bastard and I told him to listen to Brahms, and I told him to learn to paint and drink and not be dominated by women and dollars but he screamed at me, F...
After 3 years I made “regular.” That meant holiday pay (subs didn’t get paid for holidays) and a 40 hour week with 2 days off. The Stone was also forced to assign me as relief man to 5 ...
I kept the date in mind. It was never any problem creating a split with Lydia. I was naturally a loner, content just to live with a woman, eat with her, sleep with her, walk down the st...
So I was surprised when the phone rang a couple of nights later and it was Cassie. “What are you doing, Hank?” She gave me the address, it was either Westwood or West L. A. “I have plen...
I watched the board and the 6 drop… after a first flash of 18 from a m… of 12...two minutes to post and a… kept jamming against my back, but… I bet 20 to win and walked out to…
I saw her when I was in the left… going east on Sunset. she was sitting with her legs crossed reading a paperback.
I had Fridays and Saturdays off, which made Sunday the roughest day. Plus the fact that on Sunday they made me report at 3:30 p.m. instead of my usual 6:18 p.m. This Sunday I went in an...
you just don’t know how to do it, you know that, and you can’t do a lot of other useful things either. it’s the fault of the
sick with the flu drinking beer my radio on loud enough to overcome the sounds of the
too much too little too fat too thin or nobody.
Sam the whorehouse man has squeaky shoes and he walks up and down the court squeaking and talking to