she’s young, she said, but look at me, I have pretty ankl… and look at my wrists, I have pret… wrists my god,

what you see is what you see: madhouses are rarely on display. that we still walk about and scratch ourselves and light

up in northern California he stood in the pulpit and had been reading for some time he had been reading poems about nature and the goodness

lonely as a dry and used orchard spread over the earth for use and surrender. shot down like an ex—pug selling dailies on the corner.

in the earliest possible day in the blue-headed noon I will telegraph you a boney hand decorated with

A couple of nights later Becker walked in. I guess my parents gave him my address or he located me through the college. I had my name and address listed with the employment division at ...

I didn’t do much the rest of the week. The Oaktree meet was on. I went to the track 2 or 3 times, broke even. I wrote a dirty story for a sex mag, wrote 10 or 12 poems, masturbated, and...

Jack London drinking his life awa… writing of strange and heroic men. Eugene O’Neill drinking himself o… while writing his dark and poetic works.

our marriage book, it says. I look through it. they lasted ten years. they were young once.

cigarettes wetted with beer from the night before you light one gag open the door for air

That night I took Tammie to the harness races. We went upstairs to the second deck and sat down. I brought her a program and she stared at it a while. (At the harness races, past perfor...

the goldfish sing all night with g… and the whores go down with the st… the whores go down with the stars I’m sorry, sir, we close at 4:30, besides yr mother’s neck is dirty,