#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
I sat in the airport and waited. You never knew about photos. You could never tell. I was nervous. I felt like vomiting. I lit a cigarette and gagged. Why did I do these things? I didn’...
in the afternoon they lean against one another and you can see how much they like the sun.
think of the beds used again and again to fuck in to die in. in this land
I was back in L.A. about a week and a half. It was night. The phone rang. It was Cecelia, she was sobbing. “Hank, Bill is dead. You’re the first one I’ve called.” “I’m so glad you came ...
I began at 6:18 p.m. and Dave Janko did not begin until 10:36 p.m., so it could have been worse. Having a 10:06 thirty minute lunch, I was usually back by the time he got in. In he’d co...
they talk down through the centuries to us, and this we need more and more, the statues and paintings in midnight age
The rainy season began. Most of the money went for drink so my shoes had holes in the soles and my raincoat was torn and old. In any steady downpour I got quite wet, and I mean wet-down...
my father was a practical man. he had an idea. you see, my son, he said, I can pay for this house in my lif… then it’s mine.
My father had two brothers. The younger was named Ben and the older was named John. Both were alcoholics and ne’er-do-wells. My parents often spoke of them. “Neither of them amount to a...
yes, they begin out in a willow, I… the starch mountains begin out in… and keep right on going without re… pumas and nectarines somehow these mountains are like
I took the envelope home to my mother and handed it to her and walked into the bedroom. My bedroom. The best thing about the bedroom was the bed. I liked to stay in bed for hours, even ...
I’ll settle for the 6 horse on a rainy afternoon a paper cup of coffee in my hand a little way to go,
know. I know. they are limited, have different needs and concerns. but I watch and learn from them.
a poem is a city filled with stree… filled with saints, heroes, beggar… filled with banality and booze, filled with rain and thunder and p… drought, a poem is a city at war,
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. ...
