#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
I stayed five days and nights. Then I couldn’t get it up any more. Joanna drove me to the airport. She had bought me a new piece of luggage and some new clothing. I hated that Dallas-Fo...
we have everything and we have not… and some men do it in churches and some men do it by tearing butt… in half and some men do it in Palm Spring…
I know that some night in some bedroom soon my fingers will rift
there’s Barry in his ripped walkin… he’s on Thorazine is 24 looks 38 lives with his mother in the same
sick with the flu drinking beer my radio on loud enough to overcome the sounds of the
the lair of the hunted is hidden in the last place you’d ever look and even if you find it you won’t believe
A month went by. R.A. Dwight, the editor of Dogbite Press wrote and asked me to do a foreword to Keesing’s Selected Poems. Keesing, with the help of his death, was at last going to get ...
starving there, sitting around the… and at night walking the streets f… hours, the moonlight always seemed fake to me, maybe it was,
The next morning Tammie found a prescription in her purse. “I’ve got to get this filled,” she said. “Look at it.” It was wrinkled and the ink had run. “Well, he tried to get this prescr...
this man used to be an interesting writer, he was able to say brisk and refreshing things. at the time
Jack London drinking his life awa… writing of strange and heroic men. Eugene O’Neill drinking himself o… while writing his dark and poetic works.
sun-stroked women without men on a Santa Monica Monday; the men are working or in jail or insane;
I had begun to dislike my father. He was always angry about something. Wherever we went he got into arguments with people. But he didn’t appear to frighten most people; they often just ...
I am hung by a nail the sun melts my heart I am cousin to the snake
the cops want me to come down and… some guy who tried to rape me. I’ve lost the key to my car again;… the key to open the door but not t… to start it.