#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
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…
sometimes I forget about him and h… innocence, almost idiotic, awkward… he liked walking over bridges and… to night I think about him, the wa… one felt space between his lines,…
it was Philly and the bartender sa… what and I said, gimme a draft, J… got to get the nerves straight, I’… going to look for a job. you, he s… a job?
I saw her when I was in the left… going east on Sunset. she was sitting with her legs crossed reading a paperback.
crud, he said, hauling it out of the water, what is it? a Hollow-Back June Whale, I said… no, said a guy standing by us on t…
I saw a vacancy sign in the window in front of a rooming-house, had the cabby pull up. I paid him and walked up on the front porch, rang the bell. I had one black eye from the fight, an...
I know that some night in some bedroom soon my fingers will rift
There was another German Shepherd. It was hot summer and he came BOUNDING out of a back yard and then LEAPED through the air. His teeth snapped, just missing my jugular vein. “OH JESUS!...
awaken at 11:30 a.m. get into my chinos and a clean gre… open a Miller’s, and nothing in the mailbox but the Berkeley Tribe
the hearse comes through the room… the beheaded, the disappeared, the… mad. the flies are a glue of sticky pas… their wings will not
twitching in the sheets— to face the sunlight again, that’s clearly trouble. I like the city better when the
I’m out of matches. the springs in my couch are broken. they stole my footlocker. they stole my oil painting of
majestic, magic infinite my little girl is sun on the carpet—
washed—up, on shore, the old yello… out again I write from the bed as I did last year.
Style is the answer to everything. A fresh way to approach a dull or… To do a dull thing with style is p… To do a dangerous thing with style… Bullfighting can be an art