#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
you know what Li Po said when ask… Artist or Rich? I’d rather be Rich,” he replied,… sitting on the doorsteps of the Rich.”
It was about a week later around 7 a.m. I had lucked into another day off and after a double workout, I was up against Joyce’s ass, her asshole, sleeping, verily sleeping, and then the ...
crud, he said, hauling it out of the water, what is it? a Hollow-Back June Whale, I said… no, said a guy standing by us on t…
One morning a few days later I entered Lydia’s courtyard as she was walking in from the alley. She had been over to see her friend Tina who lived in an apartment house on the corner. Sh...
good weather is like good women— it doesn’t always happen and when it does
We were eating meatballs and spaghetti. My problems were always discussed at dinner time. Dinner time was almost always an unhappy time. I didn’t answer my father’s question. “Henry, an...
he drank wine all night of the 28th, and he kept thinking of her: the way she walked and talked and… the way she told him things that s… but were not, and he knew the colo…
we take what we can see— the engines driving us mad, lovers finally hating; this fish in the market staring upward into our minds;
he has on blue jeans and tennis sh… and walks with two young girls about his age. every now and then he leaps into the air and
I was glad I had money in the Sav… Friday afternoon hungover I didn’t have a job I was glad I had money in the Sav… I didn’t know how to play a guitar
look there. the one you considered killing you… for. you saw her the other day getting out of her car
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...
a house with 7 or 8 people living in it getting up the rent. there’s a stereo never used and a set of bongos
my grandfather was a tall German with a strange smell on his breath… he stood very straight in front of his small house and his wife hated him
she writes: you’ll be moaning and groaning in your poems about how I fucked those 2 guys last week.