#AmericanWriters #1993 #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
at one stage in my life I met a man who claimed to have visited Pound at St. Elizabeths. then I met a woman who not only claimed to have visited
Just give me a little atomic bomb Not too mutch just a little Enough to kill a horse in the stre… But there aren’t any horses in the… Enough to knock the flowers from a…
Four or five days passed. The phone rang. It was Tammie. “Listen, Hank. You know that little bridge you cross in your car when you drive to my mother’s place?” “Well, right by there the...
Our English teacher, Miss Gredis, was the absolute best. She was a blonde with a long sharp nose. Her nose wasn’t much good but you didn’t notice it when you looked at the rest of her. ...
she was a short one getting fat and she had once been beautiful and she drank the wine she drank the wine in bed and
we had goldfish and they circled a… in the bowl on the table near the… covering the picture window and my mother, always smiling, wanting… to be happy, told me, ‘be happy He…
I got a letter in the mail. It was addressed from Hollywood. Dear Chinaski: I’ve just read almost all your books. I work as a typist in a place on Cherokee Ave. I’ve hung your picture i...
one of the first actors to play Ta… Motion Picture Home. he’d been there for years waiting… he spent much of his time running in and out of the wards
the swans drown in bilge water, take down the signs, test the poisons, barricade the cow from the bull,
which reminds me I shacked with Jane for 7 years she was a drunk I loved her my parents hated her
the house next door makes me sad. both man and wife rise early and go to work. they arrive home in early evening.
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…
That evening after dinner Joanna produced some mescaline. “You ever tried this stuff?” Joanna had some paints and brushes and paper spread on the table. Then I remembered she was an art...
Christmas eve, alone, in a motel room down the coast near the Pacific— hear it?
you no faces no faces at all laughing at nothing—