#Americans #XXCentury #1993 #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
I was sitting with an anarchist from Beverly Hills, Ben Solvnag, who was writing my biography when I heard her footsteps on the court walk. I knew the sound—they were always fast and fr...
I am driving down Wilton Avenue when this girl of about 15 dressed in tight blue jeans that grip her behind like two hand… steps out in front of my car
“Get a seat for her, put her on the tab,” I told Marty. “All right. We’ll set her up. We’re S.R.O. We’ve had to turn away 150 and it’s 30 minutes before you go on.” “I want to introduce...
the essence of the belly like a white balloon sacked is disturbing like the running of feet on the stairs
Markov claims I am trying to stab his soul but I’d prefer his wife. put my feet on the coffee table and he says,
they’re not going to let you sit at a front table at some cafe in Europe in the mid-afternoon sun. you do, somebody’s going to
here I’m supposed to be a great po… and I’m sleepy in the afternoon here I am aware of death like a gi… charging at me and I’m sleepy in the afternoon
At Mt. Justin, biology class was neat. We had Mr. Stanhope for our teacher. He was an old guy about 55 and we pretty much dominated him. Lilly Fischman was in the class and she was real...
often it is the only thing between you and impossibility. no drink,
I took the envelope home to my mother and handed it to her and walked into the bedroom. My bedroom. The best thing about the bedroom was the bed. I liked to stay in bed for hours, even ...
the best often die by their own ha… just to get away, and those left behind can never quite understand why anybody
One morning a few days later I entered Lydia’s courtyard as she was walking in from the alley. She had been over to see her friend Tina who lived in an apartment house on the corner. Sh...
shot in the eye shot in the brain shot in the ass shot like a flower in the dance amazing how death wins hands down
I have lain in bed all day but I have written one poem and I am up now looking out the window and like a novelist might say
The next day was Saturday and Debra cooked us breakfast. “Are you coming antique hunting with us today?” We ate in silence for a while, then she said, “I liked your reading at The Lance...
