#AmericanWriters #1977 #LoveIsADogFromHell
the dream of a man is a whore with a gold tooth and a garter belt, perfumed with false eyebrows
One Sunday Jimmy talked me into going to the beach with him. He wanted to go swimming. I didn’t want to he seen wearing swimming trunks because my hack was covered with boils and scars....
another bed another woman more curtains another bathroom another kitchen
I’m in bed. it’s morning and I hear: where are your socks? please get dressed!
what you see is what you see: madhouses are rarely on display. that we still walk about and scratch ourselves and light
I didn’t do much the rest of the week. The Oaktree meet was on. I went to the track 2 or 3 times, broke even. I wrote a dirty story for a sex mag, wrote 10 or 12 poems, masturbated, and...
the hearse comes through the room… the beheaded, the disappeared, the… mad. the flies are a glue of sticky pas… their wings will not
The rainy season began. Most of the money went for drink so my shoes had holes in the soles and my raincoat was torn and old. In any steady downpour I got quite wet, and I mean wet-down...
But the next morning it was the sa… “That’s all, Chinaski. Nothing fo… It went on for a week. I sat ther… Then Bobby Hansen, one of the old… “I don’t care. I’m not kissing hi…
Sam the whorehouse man has squeaky shoes and he walks up and down the court squeaking and talking to
the cockroach crouched against the tile while I was pissing and as I turned my head he hauled his butt
my first and only wife painted and she talked to me about it: it’s all so painful
The 5th grade was a little better. The other students seemed less hostile and I was growing larger physically. I still wasn’t chosen for the homeroom teams but I was threatened less. Da...
starving there, sitting around the… and at night walking the streets f… hours, the moonlight always seemed fake to me, maybe it was,
no one is sorry I am leaving, not even I; but there should be a minstrel or at least a glass of wine. bothers the young most, I think: