#Americans #XXCentury #1977 #LoveIsADogFromHell
terror finally becomes almost bearable but never quite terror creeps like a cat crawls like a cat
I met her somehow through correspo… and she began sending me very sexy… and this being mixed in with a min… confused me somewhat and I got in… through the mountains and valleys…
she’s young, she said, but look at me, I have pretty ankles, and look at my wrists, I have pret… wrists
Upon awakening I got up and used Joanna’s toothbrush, drank a couple of glasses of water, washed my hands and face and got back into bed. Joanna turned around and my mouth found hers. M...
red face Texas and age he’s at an L.A. racetrack
I saw her when I was in the left… going east on Sunset. she was sitting with her legs crossed reading a paperback.
the canaries were there, and the l… and the old woman with warts; and I was there, a child and I touched the piano keys as they talked—
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...
if you’re a man, Los Angeles is w… battle; or if you’re a woman, and… the rest, you sail it against a mo… when you grow grey you can hide in… in a mansion so nobody can see how…
this kid used to teach at Kansas… then they moved him out he went to a bean factory then he and his wife moved to the… she got a job and worked while
Four or five days passed. The phone rang. It was Tammie. “Listen, Hank. You know that little bridge you cross in your car when you drive to my mother’s place?” “Well, right by there the...
hey, said my friend, I want you to… Hangdog Harry, he reminds me of y… and I said, all right, and we went… this cheap hotel. old men sitting around watching
each man must realize that it can all disappear very quickly: the cat, the woman, the job, the front tire,
sick with the flu drinking beer my radio on loud enough to overcome the sounds of the
death wants more death, and its we… I remember my father’s garage, how… I would brush the corpses of flies from the windows they thought were… their sticky, ugly, vibrant bodies