#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
knew you were a bad-ass,” he said. you sat in the back of Art class a… you never said anything. then I saw you in that brutal figh… with the guy with the dirty yellow
murdered in the alleys of the land frost-bitten against flagpoles pawned by females educated in the dark for the dark vomiting into plugged toilets
The voices of the people were the same, no matter where you carried the mail you heard the same things over and over again. “You’re late, aren’t you?” “Where’s the regular carrier?” “He...
Lydia met me at the airport. She was horny as usual. “Jesus Christ,” she said. “I’m hot! I play with myself but it doesn’t do any good.” “Lydia, my leg is still in terrible shape. I jus...
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…
sun-stroked women without men on a Santa Monica Monday; the men are working or in jail or insane;
there he is: not too many hangovers not too many fights with women not too many flat tires never a thought of suicide
The jew bent over and died. 99 machine guns were shipped to France. somebody w… while I inspected the propeller of an old monoplane
64 days and nights in that place, chemotherapy, antibiotics, blood running into the catheter. leukemia.
Van Gogh cut off his ear gave it to a prostitute who flung it away in extreme
know. I know. they are limited, have different needs and concerns. but I watch and learn from them.
we were in bed and she started to fight: “you son of a bitch! you just wait… I’ll get you!” I began laughing:
in San Francisco the landlady, 80… Victrola up the stairway and I pl… until they beat on the walls. there was a large bucket in the ce… filled with beer and winebottles;
majestic, majic infinite my little girl is sun on the carpet—
of course, I may die in the next t… and I’m ready for that but what I’m really worried about… that my editor—publisher might ret… even though he is ten years younge…