#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
she writes continually like a long nozzle spraying the air,
they’re not going to let you sit at a front table at some cafe in Europe in the mid-afternoon sun. you do, somebody’s going to
the weather is hot on the back of… which is down at Finkelstein’s who is gifted with 3 balls but no heart, but you’ve got to un… when the bull goes down
When Jonstone saw me the next 5 a.m. he spun in his swivel and his face and his shirt were the same color. But he said nothing. I didn’t care. I had been up to 2 a.m. drinking and screw...
you with long hair, legs crossed h… the bar, you like a butcher knife… as the nightingale sings elsewhere… mingles with the roach’s hiss. know you as
swans die in the Spring too and there it floated dead on a Sunday sideways circling in the current
The next day we picked up some of her stuff at this motel. There was a little dark guy in there with a wart on the side of his nose. He looked dangerous. Hector was sitting on the edge ...
I saw her when I was in the left… going east on Sunset. she was sitting with her legs crossed reading a paperback.
red summers and black satin charcoal and blood ringing the sheets while snails are stepped on and moths go batty
the telephone has not been kind of… of late there have been more and m… from people who want to come over… from people who are depressed from people who are lonely
the best often die by their own ha… just to get away, and those left behind can never quite understand why anybody
I took Tanya to the airport the next afternoon. We had a drink in the same bar. The high-yellow wasn’t around; all that leg was with somebody else. “No. You love sex and there’s nothing...
our marriage book, it says. I look through it. they lasted ten years. they were young once.
I used to hold my social security… up in the air, he told me, but I was so small they couldn’t see it,
I’ve always had trouble with money. this one place I worked everybody ate hot dogs and potato chips