But there were some good moments. My sometime friend from the neighborhood, Gene, who was a year older than I, had a buddy, Harry Gibson, who had had one professional fight (he’d lost)....

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

you gotta have wars suppose World War One was the bes… really, you know, both sides were… they really had something to fight… they really thought they had somet…

was on the train to Del Mar and I… to go to the bar car. I had a beer… back and sat down. pardon me,” said the lady next to… sitting in my husband’s seat.”

they don’t make it the beautiful die in flame— suicide pills, rat poison, rope, w… ever... they rip their arms off,

I met an old drunk on the street one afternoon. I used to know him from the days with Betty when we made the rounds of the bars. He told me that he was now a postal clerk and that there...

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

the vultures at the zoo (all three of them) sit very quietly in their caged tree and below

a great white light dawns across t… continent as we fawn over our failed traditi… often kill to preserve them or sometimes kill just to kill.

One day, just like in grammar school, like with David, a boy attached himself to me. He was small and thin and had almost no hair on top of his head. The guys called him Baldy. His real...

By the time they called me to dinner I was able to pull up my clothing and walk to the breakfast nook where we ate all our meals except on Sunday. There were two pillows on my chair. I ...