as the spirit wanes the form

big sloppy wounded dog hit by a car and walking toward the curbing making enormous sounds

to be writing poetry at the age of… like a schoolboy, surely, I must be crazy; racetracks and booze and arguments with the landlord;

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,

drunk and writing poems at 3 a.m. what counts now is one more tight

We had another fight. Later I was back at my place but I didn’t feel like sitting there alone and drinking. The night harness racing meet was on. I took a pint and went out to the track...

I don’t beat the walls with my fis… I just sit but it rushes in a tide of it. the woman in the court behind me h…

he walks up to my Volks after I have parked and rocks it back and forth grinning around his

drinking German beer and trying to come up with the immortal poem at 5 p.m. in the afternoon. but, ah, I’ve told the

this kid used to teach at Kansas… then they moved him out he went to a bean factory then he and his wife moved to the… she got a job and worked while

you consult psychiatrists and phil… when things aren’t going well and whores when they are. the whores are there for young boy… men; to the young boys they say,

Soon after that I made regular and that gave me an 8 hour night, which beat 12, and pay for holidays. Of the 150 or 200 that had come in, there were only two of us left. Then I met Davi...

Mindy stayed about a week. I introduced her to my friends. We went places. But nothing was resolved. I couldn’t climax. She didn’t seem to mind. It was strange. Around 10:45 PM one even...

the old L.A. Public Library burn… down that library downtown and with it went large part of my

bet on #6, I try red, I stare at… wonder what Chekhov would do, and… blue plates sit eating the carnage… and look very much like Russians a… my left tit and try to smile like…