#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
225 days under grass and you know more than I. they have long taken your blood, you are a dry stick in a basket. is this how it works?
I sit here on the 2nd floor hunched over in yellow pajamas still pretending to be a writer.
you with long hair, legs crossed h… the bar, you like a butcher knife… as the nightingale sings elsewhere… mingles with the roach’s hiss. know you as
my mother knocked on my rooming-ho… and came in looked in the dresser drawer: Henry you don’t have any clean stockings?
at the hospital that I have been going to the nurses seem overweight. they are bulky in their
I have seen an old man around town… carrying an enormous pack. he uses a walking stick and moves up and down the streets with this pack strapped to his bac…
sitting in a dark bedroom with 3 j… female. brown paper bags filled with trash… everywhere. is one-thirty in the afternoon.
I read a book about John Dos Pas… the book once radical—communist John ended up in the Hollywood Hi… and reading the Wall Street Journal
sit on this bench and look at the sea and the freaks and the lovers. need new eyes a new mouth new pillows, a new woman.
Lydia and I were always fighting. She was a flirt and it irritated me. When we ate out I was sure she was eyeballing some man across the room. When my male friends came by to visit and ...
yes, it’s dark in here. can’t open the door. can’t open the jam lid. can’t find a pair of socks that ma… was born in Andernach in 1920 and…
In the morning Dee Dee drove me to the Sunset Strip for breakfast. The Mercedes was black and shone in the sun. We drove past the billboards and the nightclubs and the fancy restaurants...
Cecelia sat and watched us drink. I could see that I repulsed her. I ate meat. I had no god. I liked to fuck. Nature didn’t interest me. I never voted. I liked wars. Outer space bored m...
in the Valkerie Mountains among the strutting peacocks I found a flower as large as my head
I read that he lost a suitcase ful… train and that they never were rec… I can’t match the agony of this but the other night I wrote a 3—pa… upon this computer