Vallejo writing about loneliness while starving to death; Van Gogh’s ear rejected by a whore;

had it for a year, really put in lot of bedroom time, slept upright on two pillows to keep from coughing, all the blood drained from my head

sometimes I forget about him and h… innocence, almost idiotic, awkward… he liked walking over bridges and… to night I think about him, the wa… one felt space between his lines,…

dying for a beer dying for and of life on a windy afternoon in Hollywood listening to symphony music from m… on the floor.

Then Joyce wanted to go back to the city. For all the draw– backs, that little town, haircuts or not, beat city life. It was quiet. We had our own house. Joyce fed me well.) Plenty of m...

Julio came by with his guitar and… latest song. Julio was famous, he wrote songs a… published books of little drawings… poems.

I got back, made love to Lydia several times, got in a fight with her, and left L. A. International late one morning to give a reading in Arkansas. I was lucky enough to have a seat by ...

dogs and angels are not very different. I often go to this place to eat about 2:30 in the afternoon

I took Tanya to the airport the next afternoon. We had a drink in the same bar. The high-yellow wasn’t around; all that leg was with somebody else. “No. You love sex and there’s nothing...

she sits up there drinking wine while her husband is at work. she puts quite

in the hospitals I’ve been in you see the crosses on the walls with the thin palm leaves behind t… yellowed and browned it is the signal to accept the ine…

in the winter walking on my ceiling my eyes the size of street… I have 4 feet like a mouse but wash my own underwear—bearded and hungover and a hard-on and no lawy…

this is my piano. the phone rings and people ask, what are you doing? how about getting drunk with us? and I say,

“It’s the manager, Freddy. He has started whistling this song. He’s whistling it when I come in in the morning and he never stops, and he’s whistling it when I go home at night. It’s be...