1969 6 6
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The book mind, just like its namesake the book, is capable of movement only after its assembly: otherwise, it boasts no moving parts.
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1969 7 2
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French pee runs stronger, less minty. In France the world' a pissoir.
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1969 3 3
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In another lifetime the loft had been a shoe factory and I joked how in the dark of night I could hear the ghosts of lost soles speaking in tongues. There was the rolling of eyes, and when I repeated the joke to my therapist, who was actually sitting acr
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1969 0 0
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Oh, and take off all your jewelry unless you want your relatives sifting you through a window screen looking for your diamond.
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1969 5 3
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It's a pretty strange feeling when you think you're about to bite into some ice cream and instead it's gazpacho.
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1968 10 8
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Time to pull in the shining teeth, but it makes me so sad, you know I'd rather be holding hands. The others have told me, don't hold back, hit them with every white knuckle, and let them bleed out, I'd rather be kissing your face. It hurts,…
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1968 10 5
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Over our short, yet enduring relationship, I found that he was desperately trying to reconcile his ambitions with his situation. I left and he continued to be unhappy, trying to "fix" what he now realized had been broken all along. In the end, a span of a
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1968 12 12
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you were very very small, you were everso small, you were like – the tiniest creature, hopping about on one leg
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1968 0 0
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“Have you heard about Lucius?” The lawyer turned to the carpenter. “They say he's gone mad. Just gone; the madness of the gods.” Sitting in the barbershop were the former two, one in his forties and the other of his fifties; a gray-haired…
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1968 0 0
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Lighter-than-air flight was back. The skies of the coast were alight with colorful balloons, dirigibles, and zeppelins tethered to their docking towers along the beach, the huge aircraft bobbing in the breeze up and down the coast for miles,…
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1967 15 8
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Effluvium is such a lovely word, so hey surprise it covers rancid butter, vomit, fertile gingko fruit trekked in from the pavement.
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1967 1 1
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After lunch it's vocal coaching: shrieking, screaming, crying Oh-my-God!-Oh-my-God!-Oh-my-God!, panting and face fanning. Next it's ‘situational training', where we pretend to be audience members on real talk shows and practice everything we've learned th
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1967 6 5
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weep or go stark mad your amanuensic fool will bury your words
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1967 7 6
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The World's Worst Mime stood there next to the iron carousel, portraying something, and the crowd understood none of it, except that whatever thing he was trying to portray was not being portrayed well at all.
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1967 3 3
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Last night, the station played me a dream of sexual promiscuity that included -- but was not limited to -- imaginative acts involving....
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1967 1 0
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The summer before cancer—the summer of the boy/friend, the summer before Max started high school, the summer when all the decisions about blowing apart their marriage were made—they drove to Martha's Vineyard. Astrid had insisted she wasn't going, rig
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1966 9 8
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In the beginning the revolution was all motion and energy. When the President for Life resigned motion and energy disappeared with the sounds of clapping hands.
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1966 8 5
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Kids are fascinated by me. Adults look the other way. Maybe it's my size. Or maybe it's the stories in the newspapers.
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1966 4 2
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"I was hit by an Amtrak train and dragged a hundred feet, and I'm going to die from smoking cigarettes."
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1966 0 0
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that is a fair description of our family if I add the disclaimer that the girls are whores and we don’t have much in common.
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1966 16 14
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fire rolls through
the drive-thru
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1966 0 1
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I watch my brother carry her into the hospital, and I love him with parts of myself I didn’t know were capable of love. I love my brother with the space behind my eyes, the skin between my fingers, the ends of my hair, the crease in my neck. I love him wi
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1966 4 1
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“He spent four lonely days in a brown L.A. haze, and now Jimmy Buffet is dead.” —Brian Williams, NBC Nightly News “Jimmy Buffet—beloved parrot-head singer-songwriter—has given up his search for that lost shaker of salt. He…
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1966 4 1
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"What's that smell?" Osama glares at me from the front seat of the Trans Am.
"What smell?" I say.
"You smell like a diaper. Are you wearing a diaper?" Osama and Peach both laugh at me.
"No... maybe, its my Baby Soft perfume. Is it too strong?"
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1965 2 0
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His mother was not an aw-come-here-honey-and-give-me-a-hug type mom. She was the kind of mother who, if you had some kind of problem, would suggest that perhaps it might be a good idea to volunteer (she was really big on volunteering) at some sort of orga
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1965 1 0
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He was the tall, whippy type. Dangerous.
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1965 13 8
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Steel beams. Welds painted over green. Yellow numbers of some sort. Old phone booths. Tags on the walls. I looked up and saw where bits of water fall down from the overpass. Pigeon up there. Washing his wings or something like that. Greyness. I was in a truck.…
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1965 8 6
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For me German was a school subject. For Hymen, who could pronounce German but not speak it, it was a poetic technique or element, shorthand for what ails the world.
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1965 5 2
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The courtroom smelled a lot like mold and it was hot as you could imagine. I sweated through my shirt and wondered if he wasn’t dying under his robe. He looked down at me from his bench and I just knew he was going to call me a commie and sentence me to l
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1965 16 6
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...when she spoke, her voice still seemed to spill bourbon from a heavy crystal tumbler, and drift cigarette smoke in a dark paneled room.
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