#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
they’d come around and they’d ask “you finished your 2nd novel yet?” “no.”
they took my man off the street the other day he wore an L.A. Rams sweatshirt w… the sleeves cut off
outside my window Sunday. I am eating a grapefruit. church is over at the… Orthodox to the west.
drunk again at 3 a.m. at the end o… of wine, I have typed from a dozen… poesy an old man maddened for the flesh of young gi…
I laugh sometimes when I think ab… say Céline at a typewriter or Dostoevsky... or Hamsun...
Luckily I had auto insurance that paid for a rental car. I drove Katherine to the racetrack in it. We sat in the sundeck at Hollywood Park near the stretch turn. Katherine said she didn...
The first thing I remember is being under something. It was a table, I saw a table leg, I saw the legs of the people, and a portion of the tablecloth hanging down. It was dark under the...
I had been corresponding with Tanya and on the evening of January 5th she phoned. She had a high excited sexy voice like Betty Boop used to have. “I’m flying down tomorrow evening. Will...
we are gathered here now to bury her in this poem. she did not marry an unemployed wi… beat her every
was on the train to Del Mar and I… to go to the bar car. I had a beer… back and sat down. pardon me,” said the lady next to… sitting in my husband’s seat.”
I never wear dark shades but this red head went to get a prescription filled on Hollywood… and she kept haggling and working… me, snapping and snarling.
he has on blue jeans and tennis sh… and walks with two young girls about his age. every now and then he leaps into the air and
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...
she’s up seeing my doctor trying to get some diet pills; she’s not fat, she needs the speed… I go down to the nearest bar and w… at 3:30 in the afternoon of a tues…
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