#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
Meanwhile, there was still Joyce, and her geraniums, and a couple of million if I could hang on. Joyce and the flies and the geraniums. I worked the night shift, 12 hours, and she pawed...
not much chance, completely cut loose from purpose, he was a young man riding a bus
sometimes you climb out of bed in… I’m not going to make it, but you… remembering all the times you’ve f… you walk to the bathroom, do your… in the mirror, oh my oh my oh my,…
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...
my father was a practical man. he had an idea. you see, my son, he said, I can pay for this house in my lif… then it’s mine.
Soon after that I made regular and that gave me an 8 hour night, which beat 12, and pay for holidays. Of the 150 or 200 that had come in, there were only two of us left. Then I met Davi...
I could see the road ahead of me. I was poor and I was going to stay poor. But I didn’t particularly want money. I didn’t know what I wanted. Yes, I did. I wanted someplace to hide out,...
Again I was on a new route. The Stone always put me on hard routes, but now and then, due to the circumstances of things, he was forced to place me on one less murderous. Route 511 was ...
first they used to, he told me, gun and bomb the elephants, you could hear their screams over… but you flew high to bomb the peop… you never saw it,
terrible arguments. and, at last, lying peacefully on her large bed which is spread in red with cool patterns o…
“your poems about the girls will s… 50 years from now when the girls a… my editor phones me. dear editor: the girls appear to be gone
she lived in Galveston and was int… T.M. and I went down to visit her and w… continually even though it was ver… weather
I stop my car at the signal I see her walking past the graveya… as she walks past the iron fence I can see through the iron fence and I see the headstones
I was shacked with a 24 year old girl from New York City for two weeks—about the time of the garbage
the droll noon where squadrons of worms creep up like stripteasers to be raped by blackbirds. I go outside