#AmericanWriters
all I’ve ever known are whores, ex… madwomen. I see men with quiet, gentle women—I see them in the sup… I see them walking down the street… I see them in their apartments: pe…
majestic, majic infinite my little girl is sun on the carpet—
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…
That night I gave another bad reading. I didn’t care. They didn’t care. If John Cage could get one thousand dollars for eating an apple, I’d accept $500 plus air fare for being a lemon....
man, he said, sitting on the steps your car sure needs a wash and wax… I can do it for you for 5 bucks, I got the wax, I got the rags, I… I need.
when Whitman wrote, “I sing the b… I know what he meant I know what he wanted:
I saw her when I was in the left… going east on Sunset. she was sitting with her legs crossed reading a paperback.
There were times when Frank and I were friendly with Chuck, Eddie and Gene. But something would always happen (usually I caused it) and then I would be out, and Frank would be partly ou...
But, there were still bits of action. One guy was caught on the same stairway that I had been trapped on. He was caught there with his head under some girl’s skirt. Then one of the girl...
I forget the beginning time. 6 or 7 p.m. Something like that. All you did was sit with a handful of letters, take a streetmap and figure your run. It was easy. All the drivers took much...
stepped into the wrong end of the… right leg which was bad to begin w… with a tv writer and an actor, som… life to make a sitcom and luckily… day at the track I get a box seat…
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 ...
sway with me, everything sad— madmen in stone houses without doors, lepers steaming love and song frogs trying to figure
is an orange animal with hand grenades fire power
Making love in the sun, in the mor… in a hotel room above the alley where poor men poke for bottles; making love in the sun