turmoil is the god madness is the god permanent living peace is permanent living death. agony can kill

A month went by. R.A. Dwight, the editor of Dogbite Press wrote and asked me to do a foreword to Keesing’s Selected Poems. Keesing, with the help of his death, was at last going to get ...

she undressed in front of me keeping her pussy to the front while I lay in bed with a bottle of beer. where’d you get that wart on

I would, of course, prefer to be with th… instead of with a photograph of an old S… to the sound of the anvil chorus and leg… girls kicking high, showing everything b… but I might as well be dead right now

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 ...

another bed another woman more curtains another bathroom another kitchen

the centerfielder turns rushes back reaches up his glove and

the telephone has not been kind of late, of late there have been more and more ca… from people who want to come over and ta… from people who are depressed from people who are lonely

you haven’t lived until you’ve been in a flophouse with nothing but one light bulb

she was hot, she was so hot I didn’t want anybody else to have her, and if I didn’t get home on time she’d be gone, and I couldn’t bear that— I’d go mad. . .

It was Christmas season and I learned from the drunk up the hill, who did the trick every Christmas, that they would hire damned near anybody, and so I went and the next thing I knew I ...