#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
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
Lydia’s sister Angela came to town from Utah to see Lydia’s new house. Lydia had made a down payment on a little place and the monthly payments were very low. It was a very good buy. Th...
there are many single women in the… with one or two or three children and one wonders where the husbands have gone or where the lovers have gone
the German hotel was very strange… double doors to the rooms, very th… looked the park and the vasser ter… it was usually too late for breakf… would be everywhere changing sheet…
I awaken about noon and go out to… in my old torn bathrobe. I’m hung over hair down in my eyes barefoot
I have been painting these last tw… it’s not much, you’re correct, but in this tournament great dream… history removes her dress and beco… and I have awakened in the morning
I got in the shower and burned my balls last Wednesday. met this painter called Spain, no, he was a cartoonist,
this man used to be an interesting writer, he was able to say brisk and refreshing things. at the time
Then Joyce wanted to go back to the city. For all the draw– backs, that little town, haircuts or not, beat city life. It was quiet. We had our own house. Joyce fed me well.) Plenty of m...
I had boils the size of tomatoes all over me they stuck a drill into me down at the county hospital, and
takes lot of desperation dissatisfaction and
New Year’s Eve was another bad night for me to get through. My parents had always delighted in New Year’s Eve, listening to it approach on the radio, city by city, until it arrived in L...
at North Avenue 21 drunk tank you… there was always some guy who woul… way to the crapper and then you would curse him good,… he would know enough to either be…
I am watching a girl dressed in a light green sweater, blue shorts,… there is a necklace of some sort but her breasts are small, poor th… and she watches her nails
Four or five days passed. The phone rang. It was Tammie. “Listen, Hank. You know that little bridge you cross in your car when you drive to my mother’s place?” “Well, right by there the...