I was back in L.A. about a week and a half. It was night. The phone rang. It was Cecelia, she was sobbing. “Hank, Bill is dead. You’re the first one I’ve called.” “I’m so glad you came ...

absolutely sesamoid said the skeleton shoving his chalky foot upon my desk, and that was it,

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 saw Bobby out front the next day when I went to buy a newspaper. “Louie phoned,” he said, “he told me what happened to him.” “He ran outside to vomit and Tammie grabbed his cock while...

you with long hair, legs crossed h… the bar, you like a butcher knife… as the nightingale sings elsewhere… mingles with the roach’s hiss. know you as

like the fox run with the hunted and if I’m not the happiest man on earth

A day or so later I got a poem in the mail from Lydia. It was a long poem and it began: Come out, old troll, Come out of your dark hole, old troll, Come out into the sunlight with us an...

Graduation Day. We filed in with our caps and gowns to “Pomp and Circumstance.” I suppose that in our three years we must have learned something. Our ability to spell had probably impro...

look there. the one you considered killing you… for. you saw her the other day getting out of her car

all of a sudden I’m a painter. a girl from Galveston gives me $50 for a painting of a man holding a candycane while floating in a darkened sky.

We got back to 1010. I had my check. I’d left word that we didn’t want to be disturbed. Tammie and I sat drinking. I’d read 5 or 6 love poems about her. “They knew who I was,” she said....

the ladies of summer will die like… and the lie the ladies of summer will love so long as the price is not forever

big black beard tells me that I don’t feel terror I look at him

drunk and writing poems at 3 a.m. what counts now is one more tight