#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
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…
the ladies of summer will die like… and the lie the ladies of summer will love so long as the price is not forever
not much chance, completely cut loose from purpose, he was a young man riding a bus
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...
drive to the beach at night in the winter and sit and look at the burned-dow… wonder why they just let it sit th… in the water.
eating cold plums in bed she told me about the German who owned everything on the block except the custom drapery shop and he tried to buy
I didn’t see Lydia for a couple of days, although I did manage to phone her 6 or 7 times during that period. Then the weekend arrived. Her ex-husband, Gerald, always took the children o...
they photograph you on your porch and on your couch and standing in the courtyard or leaning against your car these photographers
I was shacked with a 24 year old girl from New York City for two weeks—about the time of the garbage
I was back in L.A. about a week and a half. It was night. The phone rang. It was Cecelia, she was sobbing. “Hank, Bill is dead. You’re the first one I’ve called.” “I’m so glad you came ...
Either peace or happiness, let it enfold you when I was a young man I felt these things were dumb, unsophisticated.
half-past nowhere alone in the crumbling tower of myself stumbling in this the
has been going on for some time. there is this young waitress where… at the racetrack. how are you doing today?” she asks… winning pretty good,” I reply.
shot in the eye shot in the brain shot in the ass shot like a flower in the dance amazing how death wins hands down
she was hot, she was so hot I didn’t want anybody else to have… and if I didn’t get home on time she’d be gone, and I couldn’t bear… I’d go mad. . .