#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
I cross the room to the last wall the last window the last pink sun with its arms around the world
one of the first actors to play Ta… Motion Picture Home. he’d been there for years waiting… he spent much of his time running in and out of the wards
a girlfriend came in built me a bed scrubbed and waxed the kitchen flo… scrubbed the walls vacuumed
she reads to me from the New York… which I don’t buy, don’t know how they get in here, but it’s something about the Mafia one of the heads of the Mafia
you won’t see them often for wherever the crowd is they are not. those odd ones, not
these women are supposed to come and see me but they never do. there’s the one with the long scar…
“You ought to try to be like Abe Mortenson,” said my mother, “he gets straight A’s. Why can’t you ever get any A’s?” “Henry is dead on his ass,” said my father. “Sometimes I can’t belie...
My father had two brothers. The younger was named Ben and the older was named John. Both were alcoholics and ne’er-do-wells. My parents often spoke of them. “Neither of them amount to a...
I was editing a little magazine at the time, The Laxative Approach. I had two co-editors and we felt that we were printing the best poets of our time. Also some of the other kind. One o...
64 days and nights in that place, chemotherapy, antibiotics, blood running into the catheter. leukemia.
she undressed in front of me keeping her pussy to the front while I lay in bed with a bottle o… beer. where’d you get that wart on
R.O.T.C. (Reserve Officer Training Corps) was for the misfits. Like I said, it was either that or gym. I would have taken gym but I didn’t want people to sec the boils on my back. There...
Her father really hated me. He thought I was after his money. I didn’t want his god damned money. And I didn’t even want his god damned precious daughter. The only time I ever saw him w...
Slipping keenly into bright ashes, target of vanilla tears your sure body lit candles for men on dark nights, and now your night is darker
here I’ll be 55 in a week. what will I write about