#AmericanWriters
While working Dorsey station I heard some of the old timers needling Big Daddy Greystone about how he’d had to buy a tape recorder in order to learn his schemes. Big Daddy had read the ...
I sat in the airport and waited. You never knew about photos. You could never tell. I was nervous. I felt like vomiting. I lit a cigarette and gagged. Why did I do these things? I didn’...
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...
Wednesday night found me at the airport waiting for Iris. I sat around and looked at the women. None of them—except for one or two—looked as good as Iris. There was something wrong with...
I heard it first while screwing a… who had the biggest box in Scranton. I listened to it again as I wrote… to my mother
The flies are angry bits of life; why are they so angry? it seems they want more, it seems almost as if they are angry
it is like this when you slip down, done like a wound-up victrola (you remember those?) and you go downtown
I was a bum in San Francisco but… to go to a symphony concert along… and the music was good but somethi… audience was not and something about the orchestra
I can see myself now after all these suicide days and n… being wheeled out of one of those… (of course, this is only if I get… by a subnormal and bored nurse
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...
places to hunt places to hide are getting harder to find, and pet canaries and goldfish too, did you… that?
the pleasures of the damned are limited to brief moments of happiness: like the eyes in the look of a dog… like a square of wax,
So gramps wrote Joyce a big check and there we were. We rented a little house up on a hill, and then Joyce got this stupid moralistic thing. “We both ought to get jobs,” Joyce said, “to...
the dream of a man is a whore with a gold tooth and a garter belt, perfumed with false eyebrows
after the slaughter house there was a bar around the corner and I sat in there and watched the sun go down through the window,