#AmericanWriters
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...
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...
it was Philly and the bartender sa… what and I said, gimme a draft, J… got to get the nerves straight, I’… going to look for a job. you, he s… a job?
I didn’t do much the rest of the week. The Oaktree meet was on. I went to the track 2 or 3 times, broke even. I wrote a dirty story for a sex mag, wrote 10 or 12 poems, masturbated, and...
the mockingbird had been following… all summer mocking mocking mocking teasing and cocksure; the cat crawled under rockers on p…
One morning about 10 a.m. the phon… I recognized the voice and began t… “Yes, yes, Miss Graves, but go on… “So therefore we have notified the… “And you are scheduled to throw yo…
sometimes you climb out of bed in… I’m not going to make it, but you… remembering all the times you’ve f… you walk to the bathroom, do your… in the mirror, oh my oh my oh my,…
a great white light dawns across t… continent as we fawn over our failed traditi… often kill to preserve them or sometimes kill just to kill.
the waste of words continues with a stunning persistence as the waiter runs by carrying the… tray
Beowulf may have killed Grendel a… Grendel’s mother but he couldn’t kill this one:
all of a sudden I’m a painter. a girl from Galveston gives me $50 for a painting of a man holding a candycane while floating in a darkened sky.
they get up on their garage roof both of them 80 or 90 years old standing on the slant she wanting to fall really all the way
After dinner or lunch or whatever it was—with my crazy 12 hour night I was no longer sure what was what—I said, "Look, baby, I’m sorry, but don’t you realize that this job is driving me...
The next morning Tammie found a prescription in her purse. “I’ve got to get this filled,” she said. “Look at it.” It was wrinkled and the ink had run. “Well, he tried to get this prescr...
often it is the only thing between you and impossibility. no drink,