#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
It was about a week later around 7 a.m. I had lucked into another day off and after a double workout, I was up against Joyce’s ass, her asshole, sleeping, verily sleeping, and then the ...
yes, they begin out in a willow, I… the starch mountains begin out in… and keep right on going without re… pumas and nectarines somehow these mountains are like
the kid went back to New York Cit… he met in a kibbutz. he left his mother at the age of 32, a well-kept fellow, sense of h… wore the same pair of shorts
I was 50 years old and hadn’t been to bed with a woman for four years. I had no women friends. I looked at them as I passed them on the streets or wherever I saw them, but I looked at t...
dying for a beer dying for and of life on a windy afternoon in Hollywood listening to symphony music from m… on the floor.
he met her at the racetrack, a str… blonde with round hips, well-bosom… turned-up nose, flower mouth, in a… wearing white high-heeled shoes. she began asking him questions abo…
I stayed five days and nights. Then I couldn’t get it up any more. Joanna drove me to the airport. She had bought me a new piece of luggage and some new clothing. I hated that Dallas-Fo...
I can remember starving in a small room in a strange city shades pulled down, listening to classical music I was young I was so young it hur…
now the territory is taken, the sacrificial lambs have been sl… as history is scratched again on t… as the bankers scurry to survive, as the young girls paint their hun…
each man must realize that it can all disappear very quickly: the cat, the woman, the job, the front tire,
I kept the date in mind. It was never any problem creating a split with Lydia. I was naturally a loner, content just to live with a woman, eat with her, sleep with her, walk down the st...
He hinted at times that I was a bastard and I told him to listen to Brahms, and I told him to learn to paint and drink and not be dominated by women and dollars but he screamed at me, F...
sometimes after you get your ass kicked real good by the forces you often wish you were a crane standing on one leg in blue water
often it is the only thing between you and impossibility. no drink,
what is it about lobsters and crab… those white-pink shells that always make me hungry just looking at them there in the butcher’s display case