#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
Bobby and Valerie came by and I introduced everybody around. “Valerie and I are going to take a vacation and rent rooms by the seashore in Manhattan Beach,” said Bobby. “Why don’t you g...
listen, he said, you ever seen a b… bucket? no, I told him. well, what happens is that now and… will climb up on top of the others
Back in L.A., there was almost a week of peace. Then the phone rang. It was the owner of a Manhattan Beach nightclub, Marty Seavers. I had read there a couple of times before. The club ...
the bulls are grand as the side of… and although they kill them for th… it is the bull that burns the fire… and although there are cowardly bu… there are cowardly matadors and co…
often it is the only thing between you and impossibility. no drink,
the telephone has not been kind of… of late there have been more and m… from people who want to come over… from people who are depressed from people who are lonely
all I’ve ever known are whores, ex… madwomen. I see men with quiet, gentle women—I see them in the sup… I see them walking down the street… I see them in their apartments: pe…
first time my father overheard me… this bit of music he asked me, “what is it?” “it’s called Love For Three Oran… I informed him.
I walked into the counselor’s office. It was Eddie Beaver sitting behind the desk. The clerks called him “Skinny Beaver.” He had a pointed head, pointed nose, pointed chin. He was all p...
I have just spent one—hour—and—a—h… handicapping tomorrow’s card. when am I going to get at the poem… well, they’ll just have to wait
I had to fly to Illinois to give a reading at the University. I hated readings, but they helped with the rent and maybe they helped sell books. They got me out of east Hollywood, they g...
Somehow the money slipped away after that and soon I left the track and sat around in my apartment waiting for the 90 days’ leave to run out. My nerves were raw from the drinking and th...
But then it began raining again. The Stone had me out on a thing called Sunday Collection, and if you’re thinking of church, forget it. You picked up a truck at West Garage and a clipbo...
Lydia liked parties. And Harry was a party-giver. So we were on our way to Harry Ascot’s. Harry was the editor of Retort, a little magazine. His wife wore long see-through dresses, show...
beheaded in the middle of the night scratching my sides I am covered with bites kick my white legs out of the shee…