#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
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 ...
near the corner table in the cafe middle-aged couple sit. they have finished their
see this final storm as nothing ve… the world; there are so many more important t… consider. see this final storm as nothing ve…
They are building a house half a block down and I sit up here with the shades down listening to the sounds,
The track had moved down the coast a hundred miles or so. I kept paying the rent on my apartment in town, got in my car and drove down. Once or twice a week I would drive back to the ap...
The next day in bed I got tired of waiting for the airplanes and I found a large yellow notebook that had been meant for high school work. It was empty. I found a pen. I went to bed wit...
I didn’t do much the rest of the week. The Oaktree meet was on. I went to the track 2 or 3 times, broke even. I wrote a dirty story for a sex mag, wrote 10 or 12 poems, masturbated, and...
The first three or four days at Mears-Starbuck were identical. In fact, similarity was a very dependable thing at Mears-Starbuck. The caste system was an accepted fact. There wasn’t a s...
she came to my place drunk riding a deer up on the front porc… so many women want to save the wor… but can’t keep their own kitchens… but me...
Curly Wagner picked out Morris Moscowitz. It was after school and eight or ten of us guys had heard about it and we walked out behind the gym to watch. Wagner laid down the rules, “We f...
I was sitting with an anarchist from Beverly Hills, Ben Solvnag, who was writing my biography when I heard her footsteps on the court walk. I knew the sound—they were always fast and fr...
We were in the air twenty minutes when she took a mirror out of her purse and began to make up her face, mostly the eyes. She worked at her eyes with a small brush, concentrating on the...
I have lain in bed all day but I have written one poem and I am up now looking out the window and like a novelist might say
I’ll settle for the 6 horse on a rainy afternoon a paper cup of coffee in my hand a little way to go,
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.