murder the roaches spit out paper clips and the helicopter circles and circles smelling for blood

to be writing poetry at the age of 50 like a schoolboy, surely, I must be crazy; racetracks and booze and arguments with the landlord;

he got knifed in broad daylight, came up… holding his hands over his gut, dripping… on the pavement. nobody waiting in line left their place… he made it to the Mission doorway, colla…

they talk down through the centuries to us, and this we need more and more, the statues and paintings in midnight age

the swans drown in bilge water, take down the signs, test the poisons, barricade the cow from the bull,

You had to fill out more papers to get o… The first page they gave you was a perso… “I am sorry you are terminating your pos… How could he be sorry? He didn’t even k… “Did you find our supervisors understand…

as the spirit wanes the form

It was noon the next day when the phone… “Well, did she come back with the champa… “Who?” “Your whore.” “Yes, she came back. ...”

There was this place. It stretched over the sea, it was built over the sea. An old place, but with a touch of class. We got a room on the first floor. You could hear the ocean running d...

Wagner wasn’t done with us. I was stand… “What are you doing, Chinaski?” “Nothing.” “Nothing?” I didn’t answer.

the centerfielder turns rushes back reaches up his glove and

my moustache is pasted-on and my wig and my eyebrows and even my eyes... then something stuns me... the lampshades swing, I hear