#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
at high noon at a small college near the beach sober the sweat running down my arms a spot of sweat on the table
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 ...
Bobby’s wife worked two nights a week and when she was gone he got on the telephone. I knew that on Tuesday and Thursday nights he would be lonely. It was Tuesday night when the phone r...
you may not believe it but there are people who go through life with very little friction or
she’s young, she said, but look at me, I have pretty ankles, and look at my wrists, I have pret… wrists
At 3:30 a.m. my twelve hours were… I set the alarm so that I would b… “What happened, Hank? We thought… “I’m quitting.” “Quitting?” “Yes, you can’t blame a man for wa…
One night I was assigned to the stool next to Butchner. He didn’t stick any mail. He just sat there. And talked. A young girl came in and sat down at the end of the aisle. I heard Butch...
I suppose it’s raining in some Sp… while I’m feeling bad like this; I’d like to think so now.
a woman, a tire that’s flat, a disease, a desire: fears in front of you, fears that hold so still
dame some dogs who sleep at night must dream of bones and I remember your bones in flesh
Every route had its traps and only the regular carriers knew of them. Each day it was another god damned thing, and you were always ready for a rape, murder, dogs, or insanity of some s...
Vallejo writing about loneliness while starving to death; Van Gogh’s ear rejected by a whore;
know. I know. they are limited, have different needs and concerns. but I watch and learn from them.
we fought for 17 days inside that… thrusting and counter-thrusting but finally she got away and I walked outside and spit
I’m not going to die easy; I’ve sat on your suicide beds in some of the worst holes in America,