#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
I was editing a little magazine at the time, The Laxative Approach. I had two co-editors and we felt that we were printing the best poets of our time. Also some of the other kind. One o...
Bach, I said, he had 20 children. he played the horses during the da… he f—ed at night and drank in the mornings. he wrote music in between.
The war was going very well in Europe, for Hitler. Most of the students weren’t very vocal on the matter. But the instructors were, they were almost all left-wing and anti-German. There...
the history of melancholia includes all of us. me, I writhe in dirty sheets while staring at blue walls and nothing.
I have been painting these last tw… it’s not much, you’re correct, but in this tournament great dream… history removes her dress and beco… and I have awakened in the morning
Dee Dee had a place in the Hollywood Hills. Dee Dee shared the place with a friend, another lady executive, Bianca. Bianca took the top floor and Dee Dee the bottom. I rang the bell. It...
as I go to the escalator young fellow and a lovely young gi… are ahead of me. her pants, her blouse are skintigh… as we ascend
—he’s a dandy —small moustache —usually sucking on a cigar he tends to lean into cars as he transacts business
dying has its rough edge. no escaping now. the warden has his eye on me. his bad eye. I’m doing hard time now.
Bobby and Valerie came by and I introduced everybody around. “Valerie and I are going to take a vacation and rent rooms by the seashore in Manhattan Beach,” said Bobby. “Why don’t you g...
all the women all their kisses the different ways they love and talk and need. their ears they all have
she died of alcoholism wrapped in a blanket on a deck chair on an ocean steamer.
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...
this one always arrives at the wrong time a basically good sort I suppose an honest man
starving there, sitting around the… and at night walking the streets f… hours, the moonlight always seemed fake to me, maybe it was,