#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
escape from the black widow spider is a miracle as great as art. what a web she can weave slowly drawing you to her she’ll embrace you
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
you no faces no faces at all laughing at nothing—
keep remembering the horses under the moon keep remembering feeding the horse… sugar white oblongs of sugar
Four or five days passed. The phone rang. It was Tammie. “Listen, Hank. You know that little bridge you cross in your car when you drive to my mother’s place?” “Well, right by there the...
I’ve come by, she says, to tell yo… that this is it. I’m not kidding,… over. this is it. I sit on the couch watching her ar… her long red hair before my bedroo…
like the fox run with the hunted and if I’m not the happiest man on earth
To give life you must take life, and as our grief falls flat and ho… upon the billion—blooded sea I pass upon serious inward—breakin… with white—legged, white—bellied r…
ah, Merryman, fighter on the docks, killed a man while they were unloa… bananas. mean the man he killed
he has on blue jeans and tennis sh… and walks with two young girls about his age. every now and then he leaps into the air and
the essence of the belly like a white balloon sacked is disturbing like the running of feet on the stairs
Bobby and Valerie came by and I introduced everybody around. “Valerie and I are going to take a vacation and rent rooms by the seashore in Manhattan Beach,” said Bobby. “Why don’t you g...
I only met one student at City College that I liked, Robert Becker. He wanted to be a writer. “I’m going to learn everything there is to learn about writing. It will be like taking a ca...
old grey-haired waitresses in cafes at night have given it up, and as I walk down sidewalks of light and look into windows
this fear of being what they are: dead. at least they are not out on the s… are careful to stay indoors, those pasty mad who sit alone before the…