#AmericanWriters #1977 #LoveIsADogFromHell
I sit here on the 2nd floor hunched over in yellow pajamas still pretending to be a writer.
red hair real she whirled it and she asked “is my ass still on?”
as the poems go into the thousands… realize that you’ve created very little. it comes down to the rain, the sun… the traffic, the nights and the da…
sleep at Lila’s and in the morning we get the breakfast special at th… then it’s up to her friend Buffy’s… Buffy has boy twins, father in dou… in a $150-a-month apt.
I found that the only time to study was before sleeping. I was always too tired to make and eat breakfast, so I would go out and buy a tall 6 pack, put it on the chair beside the bed, r...
the best often die by their own ha… just to get away, and those left behind can never quite understand why anybody
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 ...
On Thanksgiving Iris prepared the turkey and put it in the oven. Bobby and Valerie came over for a few drinks but they didn’t stay. It was refreshing. Iris had on another dress, just as...
beheaded in the middle of the night scratching my sides I am covered with bites kick my white legs out of the shee…
they say that nothing is wasted: either that or it all is.
On the elevator up, I was the only white man there. It seemed strange. They talked about the riots, not looking at me. “Jesus,” said a coal black guy, "it’s really something. These guys...
red face Texas and age he’s at an L.A. racetrack
Go to Tibet. Ride a camel. Read the Bible. Dye your shoes blue. Grow a Beard.
When Jonstone saw me the next 5 a.m. he spun in his swivel and his face and his shirt were the same color. But he said nothing. I didn’t care. I had been up to 2 a.m. drinking and screw...
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…