#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
I feel gypped by dunces as if reality were the property of little men with luck and a headstart, and I sit in the cold
well, first Mae West died and then George Raft, and Eddie G. Robinson’s been gone long time,
I laugh sometimes when I think ab… say Céline at a typewriter or Dostoevsky... or Hamsun...
I got back, made love to Lydia several times, got in a fight with her, and left L. A. International late one morning to give a reading in Arkansas. I was lucky enough to have a seat by ...
at the track today, Father’s Day, each paid admission was entitled to a wallet and each contained a
yesterday drunken Alice gave me a jar of fig jam and today she whistles
see this final storm as nothing ve… the world; there are so many more important t… consider. see this final storm as nothing ve…
believe in earning one’s own way but I also believe in the unexpect… gift and it is a wondrous thing when a woman who has read your wor…
sometimes after you get your ass kicked real good by the forces you often wish you were a crane standing on one leg in blue water
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...
awaken at 11:30 a.m. get into my chinos and a clean gre… open a Miller’s, and nothing in the mailbox but the Berkeley Tribe
you go for these wenches, she said… you go for these whores, I’ll bore you. I don’t want to be shit on anymore… I said,
they found him walking along the f… all red in front he had taken a rusty tin can and cut off his sexual
Fay was all right with the pregnancy. For an old gal, she was all right. We waited around at our place. Finally the time came. “It won’t be long,” she said. “I don’t want to get there t...
my daughter is most glorious. we are eating a takeout snack in my car in Santa Monica.