#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
Fay was pregnant. But it didn’t change her and it didn’t change the post office either. The same clerks did all the work while the miscellaneous crew stood around and argued about sport...
sitting in a dark bedroom with 3 j… female. brown paper bags filled with trash… everywhere. is one-thirty in the afternoon.
the words have come and gone, I sit ill. the phone rings, the cats sleep. Linda vacuums. I am waiting to live,
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
live alone in a small room and read the newspapers and sleep alone in the dark dreaming of crowds.
I had agreed to give a reading up north. It was the afternoon before the reading and I was sitting in an apartment at the Holiday Inn drinking beer with Joe Washington, the promoter, an...
So I was surprised when the phone rang a couple of nights later and it was Cassie. “What are you doing, Hank?” She gave me the address, it was either Westwood or West L. A. “I have plen...
I been readin’ you for a long time… I just put Billy Boy to bed, he got 7 mean ticks from somewhere… I got 2, my husband, Benny, he got 3.
he walks up to my Volks after I have parked and rocks it back and forth grinning around his
the old fart, he used his literary… to reel them in one at a time, each younger than the last. he liked to meet them for luncheon… wine
a woman, a tire that’s flat, a disease, a desire: fears in front of you, fears that hold so still
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
no we can’t we can’t win it I’ve decided we can’t win it just for a while we thought we cou… but that was just for a while
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 was in the 4th grade when I found out about it. I was probably one of the last to know, because I still didn’t talk to anybody. A boy walked up to “Your mother has a hole . . .”—he to...