#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
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
listening to Bruckner on the radio wondering why I’m not half mad over the latest breakup with my latest girlfriend wondering why I’m not driving the…
the essence of the belly like a white balloon sacked is disturbing like the running of feet on the stairs
he lives in a house with a swimmin… and says the job is killing him. he is 27. I am 44. I can’t seem t… get rid of
one of the first actors to play Ta… Motion Picture Home. he’d been there for years waiting… he spent much of his time running in and out of the wards
The 5th grade was a little better. The other students seemed less hostile and I was growing larger physically. I still wasn’t chosen for the homeroom teams but I was threatened less. Da...
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...
There was this place. It stretched over the sea, it was built over the sea. An old place, but with a touch of class. We got a room on the first floor. You could hear the ocean running d...
call it the greenhouse effect or w… but it just doesn’t rain like it u… I particularly remember the rains… depression era. there wasn’t any money but there w…
my father always said, “early to b… early to rise makes a man healthy,… and wise.” it was lights out at 8 p.m. in our… and we were up at dawn to the smel…
There were continual fights. The teachers didn’t seem to know anything about them. And there was always trouble when it rained. Any boy who brought an umbrella to school or wore a rainc...
I met a genius on the train today about 6 years old, he sat beside me and as the train
they say that nothing is wasted: either that or it all is.
It was another Sunday that we got into the Model-T in search of my Uncle John. “He has no ambition,” said my father. “I don’t see how he can hold his god-damned head up and look people ...
Frank liked airplanes. He lent me all his pulp magazines about World War 1. The best was Flying Aces. The dog-fights were great, the Spads and the Fokkers mixing it. I read all the stor...