#AmericanWriters #1973 #BurningInWaterDrowningInFlame #ItCatchesMyHeartInItsHands
the ladies of summer will die like… and the lie the ladies of summer will love so long as the price is not forever
my father was a practical man. he had an idea. you see, my son, he said, I can pay for this house in my lif… then it’s mine.
I can see myself now after all these suicide days and n… being wheeled out of one of those… (of course, this is only if I get… by a subnormal and bored nurse
the waste of words continues with a stunning persistence as the waiter runs by carrying the… tray
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
O lord, he said, Japanese women, real women, they have not forgotte… bowing and smiling closing the wounds men have made; but American women will kill you l…
the soldiers march without guns the graves are empty peacocks glide in the rain down stairways march great men smi… there is food enough and rent enou…
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...
the rooms at the hospital went for 550 a day. that was for the room alone. the amazing thing, though, was tha… in some of the rooms
The bandages were helpful. L.A. County Hospital had finally come up with something. The boils drained. They didn’t vanish but they flattened a bit. Yet some new ones would appear and ri...
the lair of the hunted is hidden in the last place you’d ever look and even if you find it you won’t believe
Wednesday night found me at the airport waiting for Iris. I sat around and looked at the women. None of them—except for one or two—looked as good as Iris. There was something wrong with...
in junior high school Big Max was a problem. we’d be sitting during lunch hour eating our peanut butter sandwiche… and potato chips.
I wait on life like a pregnancy, p… the gut but all I hear now is the piano slamming its teeth throu… brain
this head like a saucer decorated with everything as lip to lip we hang in mechanical joy; my hands blaze with arias