#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
I was hungover again, another heat spell was on—a week of 100 degree days. The drinking went on each night, and in the early mornings and days there was The Stone and the impossibility ...
you go for these wenches, she said… you go for these whores, I’ll bore you. I don’t want to be shit on anymore… I said,
One morning a few days later I entered Lydia’s courtyard as she was walking in from the alley. She had been over to see her friend Tina who lived in an apartment house on the corner. Sh...
That evening after dinner Joanna produced some mescaline. “You ever tried this stuff?” Joanna had some paints and brushes and paper spread on the table. Then I remembered she was an art...
I’ll settle for the 6 horse on a rainy afternoon a paper cup of coffee in my hand a little way to go,
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
it beats love because there aren’t… wounds: in the morning she turns on the radio, Brahms or… or Stravinsky or Mozart. she boil… eggs counting the seconds out loud…
Bruckner wasn’t bad even though he got down on his knees and proclaimed Wagner the master.
he sat naked and drunk in a room o… night, running the blade of the kn… under his fingernails, smiling, th… of all the letters he had received telling him that
I didn’t see Lydia for a couple of days, although I did manage to phone her 6 or 7 times during that period. Then the weekend arrived. Her ex-husband, Gerald, always took the children o...
I used to know a dutchman in a Ph… he’d take 3 raw eggs in his beer, 71, still working, strong,
long ago he edited a little magazi… was up in San Francisco during the beat era during the reading-poetry-with-jaz… and I remember him because he neve…
I kept getting letters from a lady who lived only a mile or so away. She signed them Nicole. She said she had read some of my books and liked them. I answered one of her letters and she...
the higher you climb the greater the pressure. those who manage to endure learn
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...