Mongolian coasts shining in light, listen to the pulse of the sun, the tiger is the same to all of us and high oh so high on the branch

The next night Bobby and Valerie came over. They had recently moved into my apartment building and now lived across the court. Bobby had on his tight knit shirt. Everything always fitte...

I am in this low—slung sports car painted a deep, rich yellow driving under an Italian sun. I have a British accent. I’m wearing dark shades

twitching in the sheets— to face the sunlight again, that’s clearly trouble. I like the city better when the

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

I saw a vacancy sign in the window in front of a rooming-house, had the cabby pull up. I paid him and walked up on the front porch, rang the bell. I had one black eye from the fight, an...

for five years I have been looking across the way at the side of a red apartment hou… there must be people in there even love in there

the ladies of summer will die like… and the lie the ladies of summer will love so long as the price is not forever

this is important enough: to get your feelings down, it is better than shaving or cooking beans with garlic. it is the little we can do

I kept getting letters from a lady who lived only a mile or so away. She signed them Nicole. She said she had read some of my books and liked them. I answered one of her letters and she...

the virus holds the concepts give way like rotten shoelaces toothache and bacon dance on the lawn

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

welcome to my wormy hell. the music grinds off-key. fish eyes watch from the wall. this is where the last happy shot… fired.

have we gone wrong again? we laugh less and less, become more sadly sane. all we want is the absence of others.