#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
I pick up the skirt, I pick up the sparkling beads in black, this thing that moved once around flesh,
in the Valkerie Mountains among the strutting peacocks I found a flower as large as my head
I made practice runs down to skid row to get ready for my future. I didn’t like what I saw down there. Those men and women had no special daring or brilliance. They wanted what everybod...
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…
In the morning Dee Dee drove me to the Sunset Strip for breakfast. The Mercedes was black and shone in the sun. We drove past the billboards and the nightclubs and the fancy restaurants...
call it th e green house effect or… but it just doesn’t rain like it used to. particularly remember the rains of… depression era.
the telephone has not been kind of… of late there have been more and m… from people who want to come over… from people who are depressed from people who are lonely
I had worked my charms on her for a couple of nights in a bar— not that we were new lovers, I had loved her for 16 months but she didn’t want to come to my…
my friend is worried about dying he lives in Frisco I live in L.A. he goes to the gym and works with the iron and hits
terrible arguments. and, at last, lying peacefully on her large bed which is spread in red with cool patterns o…
we were in bed and she started to fight: “you son of a bitch! you just wait… I’ll get you!” I began laughing:
they called Céline a Nazi they called Pound a fascist they called Hamsun a Nazi and a f… they put Dostoevsky in front of a… squad
After Debra left for work the next morning I bathed, then tried to watch t.v. I walked around naked and noticed that I could be seen from the street through the front window. So I had a...
the weather is hot on the back of… which is down at Finkelstein’s who is gifted with 3 balls but no heart, but you’ve got to un… when the bull goes down
The next time you listen to Borod… remember he was just a chemist who wrote music to relax; his house was jammed with peor e: students, artists, drunkards, bur…