#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
At 3:30 a.m. my twelve hours were… I set the alarm so that I would b… “What happened, Hank? We thought… “I’m quitting.” “Quitting?” “Yes, you can’t blame a man for wa…
I am watching a girl dressed in a light green sweater, blue shorts,… there is a necklace of some sort but her breasts are small, poor th… and she watches her nails
here comes the fishhead singing here comes the baked potato in dra… here comes nothing to do all day l… here comes another night of no sle… here comes the phone ringing the w…
with old cars, especially when you… and drive them for many years a love affair is inevitable: you even learn to accept their little
Markov claims I am trying to stab his soul but I’d prefer his wife. put my feet on the coffee table and he says,
I took Tammie. We got there a little early and went to a bar across the street. We got a table. “Now don’t drink too much, Hank. You know how you slur your words and miss your lines whe...
live alone in a small room and read the newspapers and sleep alone in the dark dreaming of crowds.
know. I know. they are limited, have different needs and concerns. but I watch and learn from them.
we tried to hide it in the house s… neighbors wouldn’t see. was difficult, sometimes we both h… be gone at once and when we return… there would be excreta and urine a…
Jane, who has been dead for 31 yea… never could have imagined that I would write a scre… days together and
too much too little too fat too thin or nobody.
I saw Sara every three or four days, at her place or at mine. We slept together but there was no sex. We came close but we never quite got to it. Drayer Baba’s precepts held strong. We ...
eating cold plums in bed she told me about the German who owned everything on the block except the custom drapery shop and he tried to buy
there are beasts in the salt shake… and airdromes in the coffeepot. my mother’s hand is in the bag dra… and from the backs of spoons come the cries of tiny tortured animals…
you won’t see them often for wherever the crowd is they are not. those odd ones, not