#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
Cecelia sat and watched us drink. I could see that I repulsed her. I ate meat. I had no god. I liked to fuck. Nature didn’t interest me. I never voted. I liked wars. Outer space bored m...
death wants more death, and its we… I remember my father’s garage, how… I would brush the corpses of flies from the windows they thought were… their sticky, ugly, vibrant bodies
the virus holds the concepts give way like rotten shoelaces toothache and bacon dance on the lawn
at the hospital that I have been going to the nurses seem overweight. they are bulky in their
Lydia’s sister Angela came to town from Utah to see Lydia’s new house. Lydia had made a down payment on a little place and the monthly payments were very low. It was a very good buy. Th...
watch them push the crippled and t… in their wheelchairs on to the electric lift which carries them up into the lon… where each chair is locked down
at the window I watch a man with a power mower the sounds of his doing race like flies and bees
While working Dorsey station I heard some of the old timers needling Big Daddy Greystone about how he’d had to buy a tape recorder in order to learn his schemes. Big Daddy had read the ...
we buy the scandal sheets at the s… get into bed and eat pretzels and… the church bells ring and the dogs… we turn on the tv and watch very b… then she goes down and brings up i…
The guide took us all over the building. There were so many of us that they had to break us up into groups. We used the elevator in shifts. We were shown the employee’s cafeteria, the b...
I met an old drunk on the street one afternoon. I used to know him from the days with Betty when we made the rounds of the bars. He told me that he was now a postal clerk and that there...
I was shacked with a 24 year old girl from New York City for two weeks—about the time of the garbage
red-eyed and dizzy as I the bird came flying all the way from Egypt at 5 o’clock in the morning, and Maria almost stumbled on her s…
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…
these boys have got class they ought to make kings out of old men rolling cigarettes in rooms small enough