#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
Katherine stayed 4 or 5 more days. We had reached the time of the month when it was risky for Katherine to fuck. I couldn’t stand rubbers. Katherine got some contraceptive foam. Meanwhi...
the vultures at the zoo (all three of them) sit very quietly in their caged tree and below
cleaned my place the other day first time in ten years and found 100 rejected poems: fastened them all to a clipboard much bad reading.
this one always arrives at the wrong time a basically good sort I suppose an honest man
The flies are angry bits of life; why are they so angry? it seems they want more, it seems almost as if they are angry
if I suffer at this typewriter think how I’d feel among the lettuce— pickers of Salinas?
I got lucky the next day. They called my name. It was a different doctor. I stripped down. He turned a hot white light on me and looked me over. I was sitting on the edge of the examina...
she bent over the side of the bed and opened the portfolio along the side of the wall. we were drinking. she said, “you promised me these
I was sitting with an anarchist from Beverly Hills, Ben Solvnag, who was writing my biography when I heard her footsteps on the court walk. I knew the sound—they were always fast and fr...
stepped into the wrong end of the… right leg which was bad to begin w… with a tv writer and an actor, som… life to make a sitcom and luckily… day at the track I get a box seat…
now more and more all these people running around wearing the American Flag Shirt and it was more or less once assum… think but I’m not sure)
We got back to 1010. I had my check. I’d left word that we didn’t want to be disturbed. Tammie and I sat drinking. I’d read 5 or 6 love poems about her. “They knew who I was,” she said....
this is important enough: to get your feelings down, it is better than shaving or cooking beans with garlic. it is the little we can do
I got in the shower and burned my balls last Wednesday. met this painter called Spain, no, he was a cartoonist,
“You ought to try to be like Abe Mortenson,” said my mother, “he gets straight A’s. Why can’t you ever get any A’s?” “Henry is dead on his ass,” said my father. “Sometimes I can’t belie...