#Americans #XXCentury #1993 #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
too much too little too fat too thin or nobody.
yes, they begin out in a willow, I… the starch mountains begin out in… and keep right on going without re… pumas and nectarines somehow these mountains are like
they’d come around and they’d ask “you finished your 2nd novel yet?” “no.”
turmoil is the god madness is the god permanent living peace is permanent living death. agony can kill
each man must realize that it can all disappear very quickly: the cat, the woman, the job, the front tire,
I went to my place, started drinking. I snapped on the radio and found some classical music. I got my Coleman lantern out of the closet. I turned out the lights and sat playing with the...
Three or four days later I found her note and phoned Debra. She said, “Come on over.” She gave me the directions to Playa del Rey and I drove over. She had a small rented house with a f...
the soldiers march without guns the graves are empty peacocks glide in the rain down stairways march great men smi… there is food enough and rent enou…
I’d tell them to have an unhappy l… affair, hemorrhoids, bad teeth and to drink cheap wine, avoid opera and golf and chess, to keep switching the head of thei…
eating cold plums in bed she told me about the German who owned everything on the block except the custom drapery shop and he tried to buy
I was casing next to G.G. early one morning. That’s what they called him: G.G. His actual name was George Greene. But for years he was simply called G.G. and after a while he looked lik...
know. I know. they are limited, have different needs and concerns. but I watch and learn from them.
your life is your life don’t let it be clubbed into dank… be on the watch. there are ways out. there is a light somewhere.
she bent over the side of the bed and opened the portfolio along the side of the wall. we were drinking. she said, “you promised me these
yeah sure, I’ll be in unless I’m… don’t knock if the lights are out or you hear voices or then I might be reading Proust if someone slips Proust under my d…