#AmericanWriters #1993 #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
One night I was assigned to the stool next to Butchner. He didn’t stick any mail. He just sat there. And talked. A young girl came in and sat down at the end of the aisle. I heard Butch...
On Thursday night Bobby phoned again. “Hey, man, what are you doing?” “Oh, come on, man, I’ll just stay for a few beers. . . .” “You treat him mean. He gets lonely when his wife is at w...
Our man was there to meet us, Gary Benson. He also wrote poetry and drove a cab. He was very fat but at least he didn’t look like a poet, he didn’t look North Beach or East Village or l...
reached up into the top of the clo… and took out a pair of blue pan ti… and showed them to her and asked “are these yours?” and she looked and said,
A week later I was driving down Hollywood Boulevard with Lydia. A weekly entertainment newspaper published in California at that time had asked me to write an article on the life of the...
my mother, father and I walked to the market once a week for our government relief food: cans of beans, cans of
they stop out front here looks as if the car is on fire the smoke blazes blue from the hoo… the motor sounds like cannon shots the car humps wildly
the ladies of summer will die like… and the lie the ladies of summer will love so long as the price is not forever
hey, said my friend, I want you to… Hangdog Harry, he reminds me of y… and I said, all right, and we went… this cheap hotel. old men sitting around watching
welcome to my wormy hell. the music grinds off-key. fish eyes watch from the wall. this is where the last happy shot… fired.
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...
he drank wine all night of the 28th, and he kept thinking of her: the way she walked and talked and… the way she told him things that s… but were not, and he knew the colo…
we have everything and we have not… and some men do it in churches and some men do it by tearing butt… in half and some men do it in Palm Spring…
my mother knocked on my rooming-ho… and came in looked in the dresser drawer: Henry you don’t have any clean stockings?
the 3 horse clipped the heels of the 7, they both went down and the 9 stumbled over them, jocks rolling, horses’ legs flung skyward.
