#AmericanWriters
I suppose like any other boy I had one best friend in the neigh… his name was Eugene and he was big… than I was and one year older. Eugene used to whip me pretty good…
O lord, he said, Japanese women, real women, they have not forgotte… bowing and smiling closing the wounds men have made; but American women will kill you l…
I had to take a shit but instead I went into this shop to have a key made. the woman was dressed
I forget the beginning time. 6 or 7 p.m. Something like that. All you did was sit with a handful of letters, take a streetmap and figure your run. It was easy. All the drivers took much...
The flies are angry bits of life; why are they so angry? it seems they want more, it seems almost as if they are angry
she only fucks the ones she doesn’… to marry. to the others she says you’ve got to marry me. or maybe she just fucks the ones s…
Lydia phoned me in the morning. “Whenever you get drunk,” she said, “I’m going out dancing. I went to the Red Umbrella last night and I asked men to dance with me. A woman has a right t...
I was sitting with an anarchist from Beverly Hills, Ben Solvnag, who was writing my biography when I heard her footsteps on the court walk. I knew the sound—they were always fast and fr...
Her father really hated me. He thought I was after his money. I didn’t want his god damned money. And I didn’t even want his god damned precious daughter. The only time I ever saw him w...
he talks like he writes and he has a face like a dove, unt… externals. little shiver of horror runs throu… about
sick with the flu drinking beer my radio on loud enough to overcome the sounds of the
am sitting on a tin chair outside… death, on stinking wings, wafts th… halls forevermore. remember the hospital stenches fro… was a boy and when I was a man and…
now the territory is taken, the sacrificial lambs have been sl… as history is scratched again on t… as the bankers scurry to survive, as the young girls paint their hun…
as I go to the escalator young fellow and a lovely young gi… are ahead of me. her pants, her blouse are skintigh… as we ascend
this one always arrives at the wrong time a basically good sort I suppose an honest man