the dead can sleep they don’t get up and rage they don’t have a wife. her white face like a flower in a closed

red summers and black satin charcoal and blood ringing the sheets while snails are stepped on and moths go batty

she was sitting in the window of room 1010 at the Chelsea in New York, Janis Joplin’s old room. it was 104 degrees

here I am in the ground my mouth open and

you gotta have wars suppose World War One was the bes… really, you know, both sides were… they really had something to fight… they really thought they had somet…

They had me in the counselor’s office in one of the back rooms of the second floor. “Let me see how you look, Chinaski.” He looked at me. “All right, Mr. Chinaski, we’d like to know whe...

Markov claims I am trying to stab his soul but I’d prefer his wife. put my feet on the coffee table and he says,

a woman told a man when he got off a plane that I was dead. a magazine printed the fact that I was dead

Lydia liked parties. And Harry was a party-giver. So we were on our way to Harry Ascot’s. Harry was the editor of Retort, a little magazine. His wife wore long see-through dresses, show...