#1973 #AmericanWriters #AtTerrorStreetAndAgonyWay #BurningInWaterDrowningInFlame
too much too little too fat too thin or nobody.
“Get a seat for her, put her on the tab,” I told Marty. “All right. We’ll set her up. We’re S.R.O. We’ve had to turn away 150 and it’s 30 minutes before you go on.” “I want to introduce...
The ultra-violet ray machine clicked off. I had been treated on both sides. I took off the goggles and began to dress. Miss Ackerman walked in. “Not yet,” she said, “keep your clothes o...
you’ve got to fuck a great many wo… beautiful women and write a few decent love poems. and don’t worry about age and/or freshly-arrived talents.
30 dogs, 20 men on 20 horses and o… and look here, they write, you are a dupe for the state, the… you are in the ego-dream, read your history, study the monet…
if you’re going to try, go all the way. otherwise, don’t even start. if you’re going to try, go all the way.
don’t ever get the idea I am a poe… at the racetrack any day half drun… betting quarters, sidewheelers and… but let me tell you, there are som… who go where the money goes, and s…
the soldiers march without guns the graves are empty peacocks glide in the rain down stairways march great men smi… there is food enough and rent enou…
There was death in that place on the hill. I knew it the first day I walked out the screen door and into the backyard. A zing– ing binging buzzing whining sound came right at me: 10,000...
he packaged it up neatly in differ… sending the legs to an aunt in St.… the head to a scoutmaster in Brook… the belly to a cross-eyed butcher… the female organs were sent to a y…
But there were some good moments. My sometime friend from the neighborhood, Gene, who was a year older than I, had a buddy, Harry Gibson, who had had one professional fight (he’d lost)....
we have everything and we have not… and some men do it in churches and some men do it by tearing butt… in half and some men do it in Palm Spring…
I got lucky the next day. They called my name. It was a different doctor. I stripped down. He turned a hot white light on me and looked me over. I was sitting on the edge of the examina...
they go on writing pumping out poems— young boys and college professors wives who drink wine all afternoon while their husbands work,
at the window I watch a man with a power mower the sounds of his doing race like flies and bees