#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
I got back, made love to Lydia several times, got in a fight with her, and left L. A. International late one morning to give a reading in Arkansas. I was lucky enough to have a seat by ...
I was sitting in my shorts one afternoon a week later. There was a tender little knock on the door. “Just a moment,” I said. I put on a robe and opened the door. “We’re two girls from G...
he talks like he writes and he has a face like a dove, unt… externals. little shiver of horror runs throu… about
I have been painting these last tw… it’s not much, you’re correct, but in this tournament great dream… history removes her dress and beco… and I have awakened in the morning
what i liked about e.e. cummings was that he cut away from the holiness of the word and with charm
swans die in the Spring too and there it floated dead on a Sunday sideways circling in the current
A month went by. R.A. Dwight, the editor of Dogbite Press wrote and asked me to do a foreword to Keesing’s Selected Poems. Keesing, with the help of his death, was at last going to get ...
Our 30 minutes was now devoted to scheme training. They gave us each a deck of cards to learn and stick into pur cases. To pass the scheme you had to throw 100 cards in 8 minutes or les...
sleepy now at 4 a.m. hear the siren of a white ambulance,
the motion of the human heart: strangled over Missouri; sheathed in hot wax in Boston; burned like a potato in Norfolk; lost in the Allegheny Mountains;
I began receiving letters from a girl in New York City. Her name was Mindy. She had run across a couple of my books, but the best thing about her letters was that she seldom mentioned w...
call it the greenhouse effect or w… but it just doesn’t rain like it u… I particularly remember the rains… depression era. there wasn’t any money but there w…
my grandmother had a serious gas problem. we only saw her on Sunday. she’d sit down to dinner and she’d have gas.
“she shoots up in the neck,” she t… me. I told her to stick it into my ass and she tried and said, “oh oh… and I said, “what the hell’s the m… she said, “nothing, this is New Y…
you with long hair, legs crossed h… the bar, you like a butcher knife… as the nightingale sings elsewhere… mingles with the roach’s hiss. know you as