Our man was there to meet us, Gary Benson. He also wrote poetry and drove a cab. He was very fat but at least he didn’t look like a poet, he didn’t look North Beach or East Village or l...

neither does this mean the dead are at the door begging bread before

It was a Wednesday night, 12:30 am and I was very sick. My stomach was raw, but I managed to hold down a few beers. Tammie was with me and she seemed sympathetic. Dancy was at her grand...

my grandfather was a tall German with a strange smell on his breath… he stood very straight in front of his small house and his wife hated him

I had begun to dislike my father. He was always angry about something. Wherever we went he got into arguments with people. But he didn’t appear to frighten most people; they often just ...

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 used to take the back off the telephone and stuff it with ra… and when somebody knocked I wouldn’t answer and if they pers… I’d tell them in terms vulgar

he hooked to the body hard took it well and loved to fight had seven in a row and a small fle… over one eye,

here things are tough but they’re mostly always tough. basically I’m just trying to get a… with the female. when you first meet them their eyes

I don’t know how it happens to people. I had child support, need for something to drink, rent, shoes, shirts, socks, all that stuff. Like everyone else I needed an old car, something to...

I paid this one’s fare all the way… to San Francisco then flew up to meet her at her br… and I got drunk and talked all night about a redhe…

after the slaughter house there was a bar around the corner and I sat in there and watched the sun go down through the window,

cigarettes wetted with beer from the night before you light one gag open the door for air