#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
“It’s the manager, Freddy. He has started whistling this song. He’s whistling it when I come in in the morning and he never stops, and he’s whistling it when I go home at night. It’s be...
Two mornings later, at 4 am, somebody beat on the door. I let Tammie in. She sat down and I opened a couple of beers. “I’ve got bad breath, I have these two bad teeth. You can’t kiss me...
there are these small cliffs above the sea and it is night, late night; I have been unable to sleep, and with my car above me
if I suffer at this typewriter think how I’d feel among the lettuce— pickers of Salinas?
Lydia’s sister Angela came to town from Utah to see Lydia’s new house. Lydia had made a down payment on a little place and the monthly payments were very low. It was a very good buy. Th...
unaccountably we are alone forever alone and it was meant to be that way, was never meant
great writer remains in bed shades down doesn’t want to see anyone doesn’t want to write anymore doesn’t want to try anymore;
I was sitting with an anarchist from Beverly Hills, Ben Solvnag, who was writing my biography when I heard her footsteps on the court walk. I knew the sound—they were always fast and fr...
nobody goes downtown anymore the plants and trees have been cut… Pershing Square the grass is brown and the street preachers are not a…
we have everything and we have not… and some men do it in churches and some men do it by tearing butt… in half and some men do it in Palm Spring…
Joyce found a job with the county, the county Police Department, of all things. I was living with a cop! But at least it was during the day, which gave me a little rest from those fondl...
he was 65, his wife was 66, had Alzheimer’s disease. he had cancer of the mouth. there were
here they come these guys grey truck radio playing they are in a hurry
in the Valkerie Mountains among the strutting peacocks I found a flower as large as my head
here I am in the ground my mouth open and