#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
I met a genius on the train today about 6 years old, he sat beside me and as the train
she died of alcoholism wrapped in a blanket on a deck chair on an ocean steamer.
there are these small cliffs above the sea and it is night, late night; I have been unable to sleep, and with my car above me
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
almost dawn blackbirds on the telephone wire waiting as I eat yesterday’s forgotten sandwich
Dee Dee had a place in the Hollywood Hills. Dee Dee shared the place with a friend, another lady executive, Bianca. Bianca took the top floor and Dee Dee the bottom. I rang the bell. It...
first they used to, he told me, gun and bomb the elephants, you could hear their screams over… but you flew high to bomb the peop… you never saw it,
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…
it’s unfortunate, and simply not the style, but I don’t care: girls remind me of hair in the sink, girls remind me of intestines and bladders and excretory movements; it’s unfortunate a...
Lydia returned and found a nice apartment in the Burbank area. She seemed to care a lot more for me than before we parted. “My husband had this big cock and that’s all he had. He had no...
Phillipe ’s is an old time cafe off Alameda street just a little north and east of the main post office. Phillipe’s opens at 5 a.m.
I was sitting in my shorts one afternoon a week later. There was a tender little knock on the door. “Just a moment,” I said. I put on a robe and opened the door. “We’re two girls from G...
drinking 15 dollar champagne— Cordon Rouge—with the hookers. one is named Georgia and she doesn’t like pantyhose: I keep helping her pull up
I stop my car at the signal I see her walking past the graveya… as she walks past the iron fence I can see through the iron fence and I see the headstones
horses running with her miles away laughing with a fool Bach and the hydrogen bomb