#AmericanWriters
I was casing next to G.G. early one morning. That’s what they called him: G.G. His actual name was George Greene. But for years he was simply called G.G. and after a while he looked lik...
I sit here on the 2nd floor hunched over in yellow pajamas still pretending to be a writer.
I’m out of matches. the springs in my couch are broken. they stole my footlocker. they stole my oil painting of
the flesh covers the bone and they put a mind in there and sometimes a soul, and the women break
swans die in the Spring too and there it floated dead on a Sunday sideways circling in the current
Then I developed a new system at the racetrack. I pulled in $3,000 in a month and a half while only going to the track two or three times a week. I began to dream. I saw a little house ...
I didn’t contest the divorce, didn’t go to court. Joyce gave me the car. She didn’t drive. All I had lost was 3 or 4 million. But I still had the post office. “I saw you with that bitch...
first of all, I had a hard time, a… locating the parking lot for the b… wasn’t off the main boulevard wher… the cars all driven by merciless k… were doing 55 mph in a 25 mph zone…
the old L.A. Public Library burn… down that library downtown and with it went large part of my
shot off his left ear then his right, and then tore off his belt buckle with hot lead, and then
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...
I stop my car at the signal I see her walking past the graveya… as she walks past the iron fence I can see through the iron fence and I see the headstones
I saw Bobby out front the next day when I went to buy a newspaper. “Louie phoned,” he said, “he told me what happened to him.” “He ran outside to vomit and Tammie grabbed his cock while...
he was just a cat cross-eyed, dirty white with pale blue eyes
We got back to 1010. I had my check. I’d left word that we didn’t want to be disturbed. Tammie and I sat drinking. I’d read 5 or 6 love poems about her. “They knew who I was,” she said....