#AmericanWriters
he’s 17 . mother, he said, how do I crack an egg? all right, she said to me, you don… sit there looking like that.
Our English teacher, Miss Gredis, was the absolute best. She was a blonde with a long sharp nose. Her nose wasn’t much good but you didn’t notice it when you looked at the rest of her. ...
murder the roaches spit out paper clips and the helicopter circles and cir… smelling for blood
it was on the 2nd floor on Coronad… I used to get drunk and throw the radio through the wi… while it was playing, and, of cour… it would break the glass in the wi…
I feel gypped by dunces as if reality were the property of little men with luck and a headstart, and I sit in the cold
majestic, magic infinite my little girl is sun on the carpet—
the rag. she sat there, glooming. I couldn’t do anything with her. it was raining. she got up and left.
The 5th grade was a little better. The other students seemed less hostile and I was growing larger physically. I still wasn’t chosen for the homeroom teams but I was threatened less. Da...
nobody goes downtown anymore the plants and trees have been cut… Pershing Square the grass is brown and the street preachers are not a…
too much too little too fat too thin or nobody.
in the afternoon they lean against one another and you can see how much they like the sun.
we talk about this film: Cagney fed this broad grapefruit faster than she could eat it and
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
half-past nowhere alone in the crumbling tower of myself stumbling in this the
no way back to Barcelona. the green soldiers have invaded th… madmen rule Spain and during a heat wave in 1952 I b… no way back to the Rock of Gibral…