if I suffer at this typewriter think how I’d feel among the lettuce— pickers of Salinas?

It was a Wednesday night, 12:30 am and I was very sick. My stomach was raw, but I managed to hold down a few beers. Tammie was with me and she seemed sympathetic. Dancy was at her grand...

we take what we can see— the engines driving us mad, lovers finally hating; this fish in the market staring upward into our minds;

the cops want me to come down and… some guy who tried to rape me. I’ve lost the key to my car again;… the key to open the door but not t… to start it.

The phone rang the next morning. Lydia had gone back to her place. It was Bobby, the kid who lived in the next block and worked in the porno bookstore. “Mindy’s down here. She wants you...

This babe in the grandstand with dyed red hair kept leaning her breasts against me and talking about Gardena poker parlors

this man used to be an interesting writer, he was able to say brisk and refreshing things. at the time

he talked about Steinbeck and Tho… wrote like a cross between the two… and I lived in a hotel on Figuero… close to the bars and he lived further uptown in a s…

I remember the Model-T. Sitting high, the running boards seemed friendly, and on cold days, in the mornings, and often at other times, my father had to fit the hand-crank into the front...

this woman keeps phoning me even though I tell her I am livin… I love. I keep hearing noises in the envir… she phones,

I walked off the job again and the police stopped me for running a red light at Serrano… my mind was rather gone and I stood in a patch of leaves