#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
a great white light dawns across t… continent as we fawn over our failed traditi… often kill to preserve them or sometimes kill just to kill.
after the slaughter house there was a bar around the corner and I sat in there and watched the sun go down through the window,
in the slow Mexican air I watched… and they cut off his ear, and his… no more terror than a rock. driving back the next day we stopp… and watched the golden red and blu…
it was on the 2nd floor on Coronad… I used to get drunk and throw the radio through the wi… while it was playing, and, of cour… it would break the glass in the wi…
I tried it standing up this time. it doesn’t usually work. this time it seemed
terror finally becomes almost bearable but never quite terror creeps like a cat crawls like a cat
shot off his left ear then his right, and then tore off his belt buckle with hot lead, and then
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
this time has finished me. I feel like the German troops whipped by snow and the communists walking bent with newspapers stuffed into
if I suffer at this typewriter think how I’d feel among the lettuce-pickers of Salinas?
big sloppy wounded dog hit by a car and walking toward the curbing making enormous sounds
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…
luxury ocean liners crossing the water full of the indolent and rich passing from this place to that
my doctor has just come into his o… from surgery. he meets me in the men’s john. “God damn,” he says to me, “where did you find her? oh, I jus…
more wasted days, gored days, evaporated days. more squandered days, days pissed away,