no we can’t we can’t win it I’ve decided we can’t win it just for a while we thought we cou… but that was just for a while

more wasted days, gored days, evaporated days. more squandered days, days pissed away,

Vallejo writing about loneliness while starving to death; Van Gogh’s ear rejected by a whore;

well, first Mae West died and then George Raft, and Eddie G. Robinson’s been gone long time,

Meanwhile, there was still Joyce, and her geraniums, and a couple of million if I could hang on. Joyce and the flies and the geraniums. I worked the night shift, 12 hours, and she pawed...

we fought for 17 days inside that… thrusting and counter-thrusting but finally she got away and I walked outside and spit

schoolgirls in pantyhose sitting on bus stop benches looking tired at 13 with their raspberry lipstick. it’s hot in the sun

That summer, July 1934, they gunned down John Dillinger outside the movie house in Chicago. He never had a chance. The Lady in Red had fingered him. More than a year earlier the banks h...

once bought a toy rabbit at a department store and now he sits and ponders me with pink sheer eyes: He wants golf balls and glass

I had agreed to give a reading up north. It was the afternoon before the reading and I was sitting in an apartment at the Holiday Inn drinking beer with Joe Washington, the promoter, an...