#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
Bach, I said, he had 20 children. he played the horses during the da… he f—ed at night and drank in the mornings. he wrote music in between.
Lydia returned and found a nice apartment in the Burbank area. She seemed to care a lot more for me than before we parted. “My husband had this big cock and that’s all he had. He had no...
the other day I’m out at the track betting Early Bird that’s when you bet at the track before it opens)
I didn’t have any friends at school, didn’t want any. I felt better being alone. I sat on a bench and watched the others play and they looked foolish to me. During lunch one day I was a...
a very miraculous thing just happe… my beerbottle flipped over backwar… and landed on its bottom on the fl… and I have set it upon the table t… but the photos were not so lucky t…
we have everything and we have not… and some men do it in churches and some men do it by tearing butt… in half and some men do it in Palm Spring…
A day or so later I got a poem in the mail from Lydia. It was a long poem and it began: Come out, old troll, Come out of your dark hole, old troll, Come out into the sunlight with us an...
I awakened to dryness and the fern… the potted plants yellow as corn; my woman was gone and the empty bottles like bled co… surrounded me with their uselessne…
between 2 and 5 p.m. any day and a… Wednesday, it’s 20% off for us old dogs approaching the sunset… it’s strange to be old and not fee… old
I went upstairs to 409, had a stiff scotch and water, took some money out of the top drawer, went down the steps, got in my car and drove to the racetrack. I got there in time for the f...
I’m soft. I dream too. I let myself dream. I dream of being famous. I dream of walking the streets of London and
awaken at 11:30 a.m. get into my chinos and a clean gre… open a Miller’s, and nothing in the mailbox but the Berkeley Tribe
think of the beds used again and again to fuck in to die in. in this land
smoking a cigarette and noting a m… flattened out against the wall and died as organ music from centuries back… my black radio
I was casing next to G.G. early one morning. That’s what they called him: G.G. His actual name was George Greene. But for years he was simply called G.G. and after a while he looked lik...