#AmericanWriters #1977 #LoveIsADogFromHell
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He hinted at times that I was a bastard and I told him to listen to Brahms, and I told him to learn to paint and drink and not be dominated by women and dollars but he screamed at me, F...
Bach, I said, he had 20 children. he played the horses during the da… he f—ed at night and drank in the mornings. he wrote music in between.
as I go to the escalator young fellow and a lovely young gi… are ahead of me. her pants, her blouse are skintigh… as we ascend
no way back to Barcelona. the green soldiers have invaded th… madmen rule Spain and during a heat wave in 1952 I b… no way back to the Rock of Gibral…
Slipping keenly into bright ashes, target of vanilla tears your sure body lit candles for men on dark nights, and now your night is darker
The boys on Dorsey station didn’t know my problems. I’d enter through the back way each night, hide my sweater in a tray and walk in to get my timecard: We had a game going, the black-w...
I didn’t know exactly why but Chuck, Eddie, Gene and Frank let me join them in some of their games. I think it started when another guy showed up and they needed three on a side. I stil...
in the earliest possible day in the blue-headed noon I will telegraph you a boney hand decorated with
was a truly amazing man he pretended to be rich even though we lived on beans and… when we sat down to eat, he said,
the boy walks with his muddy feet… soul talking about recitals, virtuosi,… the lesser known novels of Dostoev… talking about how he corrected a w…
I suppose it’s raining in some Sp… while I’m feeling bad like this; I’d like to think so now.
I was always a natural slob I liked to lay upon the bed in undershirt (stained, of course) (and with cigarette holes)
Christmas eve, alone, in a motel room down the coast near the Pacific— hear it?
Cecelia sat and watched us drink. I could see that I repulsed her. I ate meat. I had no god. I liked to fuck. Nature didn’t interest me. I never voted. I liked wars. Outer space bored m...