#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
if I suffer at this typewriter think how I’d feel among the lettuce-pickers of Salinas?
they go on writing pumping out poems— young boys and college professors wives who drink wine all afternoon while their husbands work,
there waas a rock-and-mud slide on the Pacific Coast Highway and… detour and they directed us up int… and traffic was slow and it was ho… we were lost.
if you can’t stand the heat, he sa… kitchen. you know who said that? Harry Truman. I’m not in the kitchen, I say, I’… oven.
ask the sidewalk painters of Paris ask the sunlight on a sleeping dog ask the 3 pigs ask the paperboy ask the music of Donizetti
I’m soft. I dream too. I let myself dream. I dream of being famous. I dream of walking the streets of London and
he spoke to mice and sparrows and his hair was white at the age… his father beat him every day and… lit candles in the church. his grandmother came while the boy…
They are building a house half a block down and I sit up here with the shades down listening to the sounds,
Curly Wagner picked out Morris Moscowitz. It was after school and eight or ten of us guys had heard about it and we walked out behind the gym to watch. Wagner laid down the rules, “We f...
I mean, I just slept I awoke with a fly on my elbow and I named the fly Benny then I killed him and then I got up and looked in th…
red summers and black satin charcoal and blood ringing the sheets while snails are stepped on and moths go batty
The phone rang the next morning. Lydia had gone back to her place. It was Bobby, the kid who lived in the next block and worked in the porno bookstore. “Mindy’s down here. She wants you...
luxury ocean liners crossing the water full of the indolent and rich passing from this place to that
these women are supposed to come and see me but they never do. there’s the one with the long scar…
the cockroach crouched against the tile while I was pissing and as I turned my head he hauled his butt