#AmericanWriters #1993 #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
the other day I’m out at the track betting Early Bird that’s when you bet at the track before it opens)
it was up in San Francisco after my poetry reading. it had been a nice crowd I had gotten my money I had this place upstairs
There are sketches on the walls of… and outside a large green bus swer… insanity sprung from a waving line… says the radio, and Jane Austin,… “I am going to do her portrait on…
turmoil is the god madness is the god permanent living peace is permanent living death. agony can kill
The next morning Tammie found a prescription in her purse. “I’ve got to get this filled,” she said. “Look at it.” It was wrinkled and the ink had run. “Well, he tried to get this prescr...
After Debra left for work the next morning I bathed, then tried to watch t.v. I walked around naked and noticed that I could be seen from the street through the front window. So I had a...
knew you were a bad-ass,” he said. you sat in the back of Art class a… you never said anything. then I saw you in that brutal figh… with the guy with the dirty yellow
almost dawn blackbirds on the telephone wire waiting as I eat yesterday’s forgotten sandwich
watch them push the crippled and t… in their wheelchairs on to the electric lift which carries them up into the lon… where each chair is locked down
the drifting of the mind. the slow loss, the leaking away. one’s demise is not very interesti… from my bed I watch 3 birds throug… one coal black, one dark brown, th…
probably from the belly button or… bed, or maybe from the mouth of th… the car crash on the avenue that l… scattered on the grass. she comes from love gone wrong und…
eating cold plums in bed she told me about the German who owned everything on the block except the custom drapery shop and he tried to buy
I have been painting these last tw… it’s not much, you’re correct, but in this tournament great dream… history removes her dress and beco… and I have awakened in the morning
I think of automobiles parked in a parking lot when I think of myself dead I think of frying pans when I think of myself dead
terrible arguments. and, at last, lying peacefully on her large bed which is spread in red with cool patterns o…