#Americans #XXCentury
he came to the door one night wet… terrorized white cross-eyed tailless cat took him in and fed him and he sta… grew to trust me until a friend dr…
our marriage book, it says. I look through it. they lasted ten years. they were young once.
they called Céline a Nazi they called Pound a fascist they called Hamsun a Nazi and a f… they put Dostoevsky in front of a… squad
all right, while we are gently cel… and while crazy classical music le… my small radio, I light a fresh ci… and realize that I am still very m… the 21st century is almost upon me…
In the betting line the other day man behind me asked, “are you Henry Chinaski?”
I drank for the next week. I drank night and day and wrote 25 or 30 mournful poems about lost love. It was Friday night when the phone rang. It was Mercedes. “I got married,” she said, ...
in the earliest possible day in the blue-headed noon I will telegraph you a boney hand decorated with
sometimes I forget about him and h… innocence, almost idiotic, awkward… he liked walking over bridges and… to night I think about him, the wa… one felt space between his lines,…
The funeral was to be at 10:30 a.m. but it was already hot. I had on a cheap black suit, bought and fitted in a rush. It was my first new suit in years. I had located the son. We drove ...
my goldfish stares with watery eye… into the hemisphere of my sorrow; upon the thinnest of threads we hang together, hang hang hang
the goldfish sing all night with g… and the whores go down with the st… the whores go down with the stars I’m sorry, sir, we close at 4:30, besides yr mother’s neck is dirty,
you came out, she said, and then you kicked this guy’s car and then you threw yourself into a… you crushed the whole bush,
I was surprised the next morning when April knocked on the door. April was the one on ATD who had been at Harry Ascot’s party and who had left with the speed freak. It was 11 am. April ...
you have to have it or the walls w… in. you have to give everything up, th… away, everything away. you have to look at what you look…
You had to fill out more papers to get out than to get in. The first page they gave you was a personalized mimeo affair from the postmaster of the city. It began: “I am sorry you are te...