#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
he was just a cat cross-eyed, dirty white with pale blue eyes
outside my window Sunday. I am eating a grapefruit. church is over at the… Orthodox to the west.
the boys come up the boys climb up the brown pole as the waterheater gurgles in Spanish
After 3 years I made “regular.” That meant holiday pay (subs didn’t get paid for holidays) and a 40 hour week with 2 days off. The Stone was also forced to assign me as relief man to 5 ...
drunk on the dark streets of some… it’s night, you’re lost, where’s y… room? you enter a bar to find yourself, order scotch and water.
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...
You had to fill out more papers to get out than to get in. The first page they gave you was a personalized mimeo affair from the postmaster of the city. It began: “I am sorry you are te...
my father was a practical man. he had an idea. you see, my son, he said, I can pay for this house in my lif… then it’s mine.
The next night Bobby and Valerie came over. They had recently moved into my apartment building and now lived across the court. Bobby had on his tight knit shirt. Everything always fitte...
they talk down through the centuries to us, and this we need more and more, the statues and paintings in midnight age
in junior high school Big Max was a problem. we’d be sitting during lunch hour eating our peanut butter sandwiche… and potato chips.
as the orchid dies and the grass goes insane, let’s have one for the los… met an old man and a tired whore
That evening after dinner Joanna produced some mescaline. “You ever tried this stuff?” Joanna had some paints and brushes and paper spread on the table. Then I remembered she was an art...
sometimes after you get your ass kicked real good by the forces you often wish you were a crane standing on one leg in blue water
I laugh sometimes when I think ab… say Céline at a typewriter or Dostoevsky... or Hamsun...