#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
love, he said, gas kiss me off kiss my lips kiss my hair my fingers
this one teaches that one lives with his mother and that one is supported by a red… with the brain of a gnat. this one takes speed and has been…
I was the last one off the plane and there was Joanna Dover. “Joanna, let’s have a Bloody Mary while we wait for my baggage. Oh hell, I don’t have any baggage. But let’s have a Bloody M...
it’s the same as before or the other time or the time before that. here’s a cock and here’s a cunt
Vallejo writing about loneliness while starving to death; Van Gogh’s ear rejected by a whore;
takes lot of desperation dissatisfaction and
16 years old during the depression I’d come home drunk and all my clothing— shorts, shirts, stockings—
I’m soft. I dream too. I let myself dream. I dream of being famous. I dream of walking the streets of London and
I got in the shower and burned my balls last Wednesday. met this painter called Spain, no, he was a cartoonist,
it is like this when you slip down, done like a wound-up victrola (you remember those?) and you go downtown
I sat in the airport and waited. You never knew about photos. You could never tell. I was nervous. I felt like vomiting. I lit a cigarette and gagged. Why did I do these things? I didn’...
she’s not for you, man, she’s not your type, she’s erased she’s been used she’s got all the wrong
I found a room on Temple Street in the Filipino district. It was $3.50 a week, upstairs on the second floor. I paid the landlady—a middle-aged blond—a week’s rent. The toilet and tub we...
That evening the phone rang. It was Mercedes. I had met her after giving a poetry reading at Venice Beach. She was about 28, fair body, pretty good legs, a blonde about 5~feet-5, a blue...
yesterday drunken Alice gave me a jar of fig jam and today she whistles