#AmericanWriters #1993 #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
In bed I had something in front o… “Sorry, baby,” I said. Then I ro… Then something awakened me. It wa… “Go, baby, go!” I told her. I arched my back now and then. Sh…
washed—up, on shore, the old yello… out again I write from the bed as I did last year.
he sits all day at the bus stop at Sunset and Western his sleeping bag beside him. he’s dirty. nobody bothers him.
this one teaches that one lives with his mother and that one is supported by a red… with the brain of a gnat. this one takes speed and has been…
I sit here on the 2nd floor hunched over in yellow pajamas still pretending to be a writer.
dying for a beer dying for and of life on a windy afternoon in Hollywood listening to symphony music from m… on the floor.
she wore a platinum blond wig and her face was rouged and powder… and she put the lipstick on making a huge painted mouth and her neck was wrinkled
I went with two ladies down to Venice to look for antique furniture. I parked in back of the store and went in with them.
welcome to my wormy hell. the music grinds off-key. fish eyes watch from the wall. this is where the last happy shot… fired.
reached up into the top of the clo… and took out a pair of blue pan ti… and showed them to her and asked “are these yours?” and she looked and said,
I kept the date in mind. It was never any problem creating a split with Lydia. I was naturally a loner, content just to live with a woman, eat with her, sleep with her, walk down the st...
absolutely sesamoid said the skeleton shoving his chalky foot upon my desk, and that was it,
we fought for 17 days inside that… thrusting and counter-thrusting but finally she got away and I walked outside and spit
do not b other the beagle lying th… away from grass and flowers and pa… dreaming dogdreams, or perhaps dre… nothing, as men do awake; yes, leave him be, in that simple…
here I’m supposed to be a great po… and I’m sleepy in the afternoon here I am aware of death like a gi… charging at me and I’m sleepy in the afternoon