#AmericanWriters #1993 #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
long ago he edited a little magazi… was up in San Francisco during the beat era during the reading-poetry-with-jaz… and I remember him because he neve…
she drives into the parking lot wh… I am leaning up against the fender… she’s drunk and her eyes are wet w… “you son of a bitch, you fucked me… didn’t want to. you told me to kee…
we buy the scandal sheets at the s… get into bed and eat pretzels and… the church bells ring and the dogs… we turn on the tv and watch very b… then she goes down and brings up i…
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.
here I’ll be 55 in a week. what will I write about
the kid went back to New York Cit… he met in a kibbutz. he left his mother at the age of 32, a well-kept fellow, sense of h… wore the same pair of shorts
I walked off the job again and the police stopped me for running a red light at Serrano… my mind was rather gone and I stood in a patch of leaves
I have lain in bed all day but I have written one poem and I am up now looking out the window and like a novelist might say
I am a panther shut up and bellowi… cement walls, and I am angry at bl… evenings without ventilation and I am angry with you, and it wi… like a rose
he met her at the racetrack, a str… blonde with round hips, well-bosom… turned-up nose, flower mouth, in a… wearing white high-heeled shoes. she began asking him questions abo…
she lived in Galveston and was int… T.M. and I went down to visit her and w… continually even though it was ver… weather
“...I’ve seen people in front of their typewriters in such a bind that it would blow their intestine… right out of their assholes if the… were trying to shit.”
the words have come and gone, I sit ill. the phone rings, the cats sleep. Linda vacuums. I am waiting to live,
drinking 15 dollar champagne— Cordon Rouge—with the hookers. one is named Georgia and she doesn’t like pantyhose: I keep helping her pull up
I used to hold my social security… up in the air, he told me, but I was so small they couldn’t see it,