A week later I was driving down Hollywood Boulevard with Lydia. A weekly entertainment newspaper published in California at that time had asked me to write an article on the life of the...

it is like this when you slip down, done like a wound-up victrola (you remember those?) and you go downtown

I’m soft. I dream too. I let myself dream. I dream of being famous. I dream of walking the streets of London and

sitting with the professors we talk about Allen Tate and John Crow Ransom the rugs are clean and the coffeetables shine

there are these small cliffs above the sea and it is night, late night; I have been unable to sleep, and with my car above me

So gramps wrote Joyce a big check and there we were. We rented a little house up on a hill, and then Joyce got this stupid moralistic thing. “We both ought to get jobs,” Joyce said, “to...

My father always ran the neighborhood kids away from our house. I was told not to play with them but I walked down the street and watched them anyhow. “Hey, Heinie!” they yelled, “Why d...

take a writer away from his typewr… and all you have left is the sickness which started him

I saw Bobby out front the next day when I went to buy a newspaper. “Louie phoned,” he said, “he told me what happened to him.” “He ran outside to vomit and Tammie grabbed his cock while...

he was easy, fat as a hummingbird and I had him blowing, I jabbed and crossed and took my t… everybody was waiting for the main… drinking beer, and I was thinking

she sits on the floor going through a cardboard box reading me love letters I have wri… while her 4 year old daughter lies… wrapped in a pink blanket and

they photograph you on your porch and on your couch and standing in the courtyard or leaning against your car these photographers