they don’t make it the beautiful die in flame— suicide pills, rat poison, rope, w… ever... they rip their arms off,

the branches break, the birds fall… the whores stand straight, the bombs stack, evening, morning, night, peanutbutter,

rose red sunlight; take it apart in the garage like a puzzle:

self-congratulatory nonsense as th… famous gather to applaud their see… greatness you wonder where

we fought for 17 days inside that… thrusting and counter-thrusting but finally she got away and I walked outside and spit

The boys on Dorsey station didn’t know my problems. I’d enter through the back way each night, hide my sweater in a tray and walk in to get my timecard: We had a game going, the black-w...

A week later I was driving down Hollywood Boulevard with Lydia. A weekly entertainment newspaper published in California at that time had asked me to write an article on the life of the...

I am in this low—slung sports car painted a deep, rich yellow driving under an Italian sun. I have a British accent. I’m wearing dark shades

murdered in the alleys of the land frost-bitten against flagpoles pawned by females educated in the dark for the dark vomiting into plugged toilets

On Thursday night Bobby phoned again. “Hey, man, what are you doing?” “Oh, come on, man, I’ll just stay for a few beers. . . .” “You treat him mean. He gets lonely when his wife is at w...

the 3 horse clipped the heels of the 7, they both went down and the 9 stumbled over them, jocks rolling, horses’ legs flung skyward.

shot off his left ear then his right, and then tore off his belt buckle with hot lead, and then

she was in her orange Volks waitin… as I walked up the street with 2 six packs and a pint of sco… and she jumped out and began grabbing the beerbottles…

“your poems about the girls will s… 50 years from now when the girls a… my editor phones me. dear editor: the girls appear to be gone