#AmericanWriters #1977 #LoveIsADogFromHell
drunk again at 3 a.m. at the end o… of wine, I have typed from a dozen… poesy an old man maddened for the flesh of young gi…
have we gone wrong again? we laugh less and less, become more sadly sane. all we want is the absence of others.
eating cold plums in bed she told me about the German who owned everything on the block except the custom drapery shop and he tried to buy
once bought a toy rabbit at a department store and now he sits and ponders me with pink sheer eyes: He wants golf balls and glass
Meanwhile, there was still Joyce, and her geraniums, and a couple of million if I could hang on. Joyce and the flies and the geraniums. I worked the night shift, 12 hours, and she pawed...
I began receiving letters from a girl in New York City. Her name was Mindy. She had run across a couple of my books, but the best thing about her letters was that she seldom mentioned w...
the lair of the hunted is hidden in the last place you’d ever look and even if you find it you won’t believe
bluebird there’s a bluebird in my heart tha… wants to get out but I’m too tough for him, say, stay in there, I’m not going
lonely as a dry and used orchard spread over the earth for use and surrender. shot down like an ex—pug selling dailies on the corner.
dame some dogs who sleep at night must dream of bones and I remember your bones in flesh
the Mexican dancer shook her fans… me and her ass at me, I didn’t ask her to and my woman got mad and ran out of th… it began raining and you could hea…
my mother, father and I walked to the market once a week for our government relief food: cans of beans, cans of
sit on this bench and look at the sea and the freaks and the lovers. need new eyes a new mouth new pillows, a new woman.
I phoned Joyce. “How’s it working with Purple Sti… “What did he do when you told him… “We were sitting across from each… “What happened?”
To end up alone in a tomb of a room without cigarettes or wine— just a lightbulb