#Americans #XXCentury
Meanwhile, there was still Joyce, and her geraniums, and a couple of million if I could hang on. Joyce and the flies and the geraniums. I worked the night shift, 12 hours, and she pawed...
then there was the time in New Orleans I was living with a fat woman, Marie, in the French Quarter and I got very sick.
is the slim tall ear-ringed bedroom damsel dressed in a long gown
The bandages were helpful. L.A. County Hospital had finally come up with something. The boils drained. They didn’t vanish but they flattened a bit. Yet some new ones would appear and ri...
here I’ll be 55 in a week. what will I write about
the history of melancholia includes all of us. me, I writhe in dirty sheets while staring at blue walls and nothing.
I took Tanya to Santa Anita. The current sensation was a 16 year old jockey still riding with his 5 pound bug advantage. He was from the east and was riding at Santa Anita for the first...
unaccountably we are alone forever alone and it was meant to be that way, was never meant
was much easier to be a genius in… only 3 or 4 literary magazines and… or 5 times you could end up in Ger… you could possibly meet Picasso fo… maybe only Miró.
I was in the 4th grade when I found out about it. I was probably one of the last to know, because I still didn’t talk to anybody. A boy walked up to “Your mother has a hole . . .”—he to...
they’d come around and they’d ask “you finished your 2nd novel yet?” “no.”
out of the arm of one love and into the arms of another I have been saved from dying on th… by a lady who smokes pot writes songs and stories
I keep thinking it will be outside now waiting for me blue front bumper twisted
I saw her when I was in the left… going east on Sunset. she was sitting with her legs crossed reading a paperback.
She wasn’t really a cop, she was a clerk-cop. And she started coming in and telling me about a guy who wore a purple stick pin and was a “real gentleman.” “Well,” I’d ask, “how was old ...
