#AmericanWriters #1993 #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
he got knifed in broad daylight, c… holding his hands over his gut, dr… on the pavement. nobody waiting in line left their… he made it to the Mission doorway,…
women don’t know how to love, she told me. you know how to love but women just want to leech.
The 5th grade was a little better. The other students seemed less hostile and I was growing larger physically. I still wasn’t chosen for the homeroom teams but I was threatened less. Da...
they found him walking along the f… all red in front he had taken a rusty tin can and cut off his sexual
Wednesday night found me at the airport waiting for Iris. I sat around and looked at the women. None of them—except for one or two—looked as good as Iris. There was something wrong with...
Cecelia sat and watched us drink. I could see that I repulsed her. I ate meat. I had no god. I liked to fuck. Nature didn’t interest me. I never voted. I liked wars. Outer space bored m...
I’m big I suppose that’s why my women alwa… small but this 6 foot goddess who deals in real estate
once starving in Philadelphia I had a small room it was evening going into night and I stood at my window on the 3r…
the virus holds the concepts give way like rotten shoelaces toothache and bacon dance on the lawn
light brown stare that dumb blank marvelous light brown stare I’ll take care of it.
there is enough treachery, hatred… human being to supply any given ar… and the best at murder are those w… and the best at hate are those who… and the best at war finally are th…
I remember the Model-T. Sitting high, the running boards seemed friendly, and on cold days, in the mornings, and often at other times, my father had to fit the hand-crank into the front...
I suppose like any other boy I had one best friend in the neigh… his name was Eugene and he was big… than I was and one year older. Eugene used to whip me pretty good…
I am in this low—slung sports car painted a deep, rich yellow driving under an Italian sun. I have a British accent. I’m wearing dark shades
That night I gave another bad reading. I didn’t care. They didn’t care. If John Cage could get one thousand dollars for eating an apple, I’d accept $500 plus air fare for being a lemon....