the essence of the belly like a white balloon sacked is disturbing like the running of feet on the stairs

schoolgirls in pantyhose sitting on bus stop benches looking tired at 13 with their raspberry lipstick. it’s hot in the sun

no way back to Barcelona. the green soldiers have invaded the tomb… madmen rule Spain and during a heat wave in 1952 I buried… no way back to the Rock of Gibraltar.

big black beard tells me that I don’t feel terror I look at him

she wore a platinum blond wig and her face was rouged and powdered and she put the lipstick on making a huge painted mouth and her neck was wrinkled

luxury ocean liners crossing the water full of the indolent and rich passing from this place to that

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...

I know a woman who keeps buying puzzles Chinese puzzles blocks

oh, how worried they are about my soul! I get letters the phone rings... “are you going to be all right?”

beheaded in the middle of the night scratching my sides I am covered with bites kick my white legs out of the sheets

turmoil is the god madness is the god permanent living peace is permanent living death. agony can kill