#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
women don’t know how to love, she told me. you know how to love but women just want to leech.
Again I was on a new route. The Stone always put me on hard routes, but now and then, due to the circumstances of things, he was forced to place me on one less murderous. Route 511 was ...
this guy he’s got a crazy eye and he’s brown a dark brown from the sun the Hollywood and Western sun
they’d come around and they’d ask “you finished your 2nd novel yet?” “no.”
the girls are coming home in their… and I sit by the window and watch. there’s a girl in a red dress driving a white car
When Jonstone saw me the next 5 a.m. he spun in his swivel and his face and his shirt were the same color. But he said nothing. I didn’t care. I had been up to 2 a.m. drinking and screw...
One Sunday Jimmy talked me into going to the beach with him. He wanted to go swimming. I didn’t want to he seen wearing swimming trunks because my hack was covered with boils and scars....
I took women either to the boxing matches or to the racetrack. That Thursday night I took Katherine to the boxing matches at the Olympic auditorium. She had never been to a live fight. ...
they say that nothing is wasted: either that or it all is.
this man used to be an interesting writer, he was able to say brisk and refreshing things. at the time
listening to Bruckner on the radio wondering why I’m not half mad over the latest breakup with my latest girlfriend wondering why I’m not driving the…
After dinner we came back and we talked. She was a health food addict and didn’t eat meat except for chicken and fish. It certainly worked for her. “Hank,” she said, “tomorrow I’m going...
up in northern California he stood in the pulpit and had been reading for some time he had been reading poems about nature and the goodness
cigarettes wetted with beer from the night before you light one gag open the door for air
I cut the middle fingernail of the… finger right hand real short and I began rubbing along her cunt