I took the envelope home to my mother and handed it to her and walked into the bedroom. My bedroom. The best thing about the bedroom was the bed. I liked to stay in bed for hours, even ...

maybe I’ll win the Irish Sweepsta… maybe I’ll go nuts maybe Harcourt Brace will call or maybe unemployment insurance or rich lesbian at the top of a hill.

I’ve come by, she says, to tell yo… that this is it. I’m not kidding,… over. this is it. I sit on the couch watching her ar… her long red hair before my bedroo…

Lydia met me at the airport. She was horny as usual. “Jesus Christ,” she said. “I’m hot! I play with myself but it doesn’t do any good.” “Lydia, my leg is still in terrible shape. I jus...

we talk about this film: Cagney fed this broad grapefruit faster than she could eat it and

the waste of words continues with a stunning persistence as the waiter runs by carrying the… tray

is the slim tall ear-ringed bedroom damsel dressed in a long gown

here comes the fishhead singing here comes the baked potato in dra… here comes nothing to do all day l… here comes another night of no sle… here comes the phone ringing the w…

the sun slides down through the sh… have a pair of black shoes and a p… brown shoes. can hardly remember the girls of m… there is numb blood pulsing throug…

re-reading some of Fante’s The Wine of Youth in bed this mid-afternoon my big cat

near the corner table in the cafe middle-aged couple sit. they have finished their

I didn’t see Lydia for a couple of days, although I did manage to phone her 6 or 7 times during that period. Then the weekend arrived. Her ex-husband, Gerald, always took the children o...