#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
bet on #6, I try red, I stare at… wonder what Chekhov would do, and… blue plates sit eating the carnage… and look very much like Russians a… my left tit and try to smile like…
sometimes you climb out of bed in… I’m not going to make it, but you… remembering all the times you’ve f… you walk to the bathroom, do your… in the mirror, oh my oh my oh my,…
I can remember starving in a small room in a strange city shades pulled down, listening to classical music I was young I was so young it hur…
he’s 17 . mother, he said, how do I crack an egg? all right, she said to me, you don… sit there looking like that.
she bent over the side of the bed and opened the portfolio along the side of the wall. we were drinking. she said, “you promised me these
At Mt. Justin, biology class was neat. We had Mr. Stanhope for our teacher. He was an old guy about 55 and we pretty much dominated him. Lilly Fischman was in the class and she was real...
they talk down through the centuries to us, and this we need more and more, the statues and paintings in midnight age
the telephone has not been kind of… of late there have been more and m… from people who want to come over… from people who are depressed from people who are lonely
it is like this when you slip down, done like a wound-up victrola (you remember those?) and you go downtown
there is always that space there just before they get to us that space that fine relaxer the breather
That night I gave another bad reading. I didn’t care. They didn’t care. If John Cage could get one thousand dollars for eating an apple, I’d accept $500 plus air fare for being a lemon....
Times were still hard. Nobody was any more surprised than I when Mears– Starbuck phoned and asked me to report to work the next Monday. I had gone all around town putting in dozens of a...
when I was in grammar school my parents were poor and in my lunch bag there was only a peanut butter sandwich.
sometimes I forget about him and h… innocence, almost idiotic, awkward… he liked walking over bridges and… to night I think about him, the wa… one felt space between his lines,…
I met an old drunk on the street one afternoon. I used to know him from the days with Betty when we made the rounds of the bars. He told me that he was now a postal clerk and that there...