#Americans #XXCentury #1993 #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
around 2 a.m. in my small room after turning off the poem machine for now
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.
they go on writing pumping out poems— young boys and college professors wives who drink wine all afternoon while their husbands work,
I get too many phone calls. they seek the creature out. they shouldn’t.
watch them push the crippled and t… in their wheelchairs on to the electric lift which carries them up into the lon… where each chair is locked down
3 small boys run toward me blowing whistles and they scream you’re under arrest! you’re drunk!
you just don’t know how to do it, you know that, and you can’t do a lot of other useful things either. it’s the fault of the
One Sunday Jimmy talked me into going to the beach with him. He wanted to go swimming. I didn’t want to he seen wearing swimming trunks because my hack was covered with boils and scars....
the branches break, the birds fall… the whores stand straight, the bombs stack, evening, morning, night, peanutbutter,
you’ve got to fuck a great many wo… beautiful women and write a few decent love poems. and don’t worry about age and/or freshly-arrived talents.
the girls were young and worked the streets but often couldn’t score, they
The toughest in the station. Apartment houses with boxes that had scrubbed-out names or no names at all, under tiny lightbulbs in dark halls. Old ladies standing in halls, up and down t...
at exactly 12:00 midnight 1973-74 Los Angeles it began to rain on the palm leaves outside my window
Go to Tibet. Ride a camel. Read the Bible. Dye your shoes blue. Grow a Beard.
by God, I don’t know what to do. they’re so nice to have around. they have a way of playing with the balls
