#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
they stop out front here looks as if the car is on fire the smoke blazes blue from the hoo… the motor sounds like cannon shots the car humps wildly
think of de vils in hell and stare at a beautiful vase of flowers as the woman in my bedroom
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 went to my place, started drinking. I snapped on the radio and found some classical music. I got my Coleman lantern out of the closet. I turned out the lights and sat playing with the...
you no faces no faces at all laughing at nothing—
I was asked to give a reading at a famous nightclub, The Lancer, on Hollywood Boulevard. I agreed to read two nights. I was to follow a rock group, The Big Rape, each night. I was getti...
Thanks for the good letter. I don’t think it hurts, sometimes, to remember where you came from. You know the places where I came from. Even the people who try to write about that or mak...
I walked into the counselor’s office. It was Eddie Beaver sitting behind the desk. The clerks called him “Skinny Beaver.” He had a pointed head, pointed nose, pointed chin. He was all p...
over my radio now comes the sound of a truly mad org… can see some monk drunk in a cellar mind gone or found,
I tried it standing up this time. it doesn’t usually work. this time it seemed
I blacked out after that. I guess I had consumed more whiskey than I thought. I don’t remember arriving at Nicole’s. I awakened in the morning with my back to somebody in a strange bed....
sometimes after you get your ass kicked real good by the forces you often wish you were a crane standing on one leg in blue water
the hearse comes through the room… the beheaded, the disappeared, the… mad. the flies are a glue of sticky pas… their wings will not
more wasted days, gored days, evaporated days. more squandered days, days pissed away,
I was shacked with a 24 year old girl from New York City for two weeks—about the time of the garbage