#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
what’s bad about all this is watching people drinking coffee and waiting. I would
these women are supposed to come and see me but they never do. there’s the one with the long scar…
my moustache is pasted-on and my wig and my eyebrows and even my eyes... then something stuns me... the lampshades swing, I hear
too much too little too fat too thin or nobody.
I used to know a dutchman in a Ph… he’d take 3 raw eggs in his beer, 71, still working, strong,
sun-stroked women without men on a Santa Monica Monday; the men are working or in jail or insane;
To end up alone in a tomb of a room without cigarettes or wine— just a lightbulb
almost dawn blackbirds on the telephone wire waiting as I eat yesterday’s forgotten sandwich
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 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 ...
There were continual fights. The teachers didn’t seem to know anything about them. And there was always trouble when it rained. Any boy who brought an umbrella to school or wore a rainc...
Frank liked airplanes. He lent me all his pulp magazines about World War 1. The best was Flying Aces. The dog-fights were great, the Spads and the Fokkers mixing it. I read all the stor...
I found that the only way I could keep from dizzy-spelling into my case was to get up and take a walk now and then. Fazzio, a supervisor who had the station at the time, saw me walking ...
naked in that bright light the four horse falls and throws a 112-pound boy into the hooves
first time my father overheard me… this bit of music he asked me, “what is it?” “it’s called Love For Three Oran… I informed him.