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…

I hear them outside: “does he always type this late?” “no, it’s very unusual.” “he shouldn’t type this

my first and only wife painted and she talked to me about it: it’s all so painful

I’m soft. I dream too. I let myself dream. I dream of being famous. I dream of walking the streets of London and

here I am in the ground my mouth open and

at exactly 12:00 midnight 1973-74 Los Angeles it began to rain on the palm leaves outside my window

I had boils the size of tomatoes all over me they stuck a drill into me down at the county hospital, and

Our English teacher, Miss Gredis, was the absolute best. She was a blonde with a long sharp nose. Her nose wasn’t much good but you didn’t notice it when you looked at the rest of her. ...

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

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

am sitting on a tin chair outside… death, on stinking wings, wafts th… halls forevermore. remember the hospital stenches fro… was a boy and when I was a man and…

The voices of the people were the same, no matter where you carried the mail you heard the same things over and over again. “You’re late, aren’t you?” “Where’s the regular carrier?” “He...

of late I’ve had this thought that this country has gone backwards or 5 de cades

the 3 horse clipped the heels of the 7, they both went down and the 9 stumbled over them, jocks rolling, horses’ legs flung skyward.