Stories tagged new-york-city

Hotel Chelsea - Intercut 9

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Whatever it is, he knows some of them would march him into a Zyklon shower if they could.


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. . . our fear of the end of the world is mitigated by the necessity of finding black leather coats we can afford. I mention this because every one I know except Michelle owns such a coat or jacket. For her, this wardrobe omission is a source of pride

Who In This Room Shared a Drink with Johnny Cash? (Memoir)

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...where I grew up the only celebrity one could count on seeing was Santa Claus...

(6) Compatriots

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"It was here where he’d first seen the girl—Nan. Slender, with brown hair, pale skin, sitting on a bench, and reading from a pile of papers on her lap."

Understand, Rubberband?

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After we moved uptown we lived close enough to the park that we could go there on our own (with permission) on weekends and during school breaks to visit the zoo or the pond where people floated their mechanical boats....


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Our bodies bounced like bumper cars through the red-eyed rush.

A Corner View of 204th and Post

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we watch out of the living room window from our third floor apartment we watch the Boys taking girls to infested alley ways between screaming buildings

Inwood Night

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The sound of a girl screaming wakes us in the middle of the night she’s standing out on the fire escape


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A warrior a coward fights in spite of it all

New York Paradox

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Hey look, there’s that seat in between with just enough space for a butt cheek


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dishonest words poured / from her cherry mouth /she clung to me / like she was my other nut / she licked the / salt from neck / held my shaved head / in between her small pink hands

Saturday Morning

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The piecing together of last night riles you up from the ground hands on face wipe the grime off your onion skin move jaw rub the sharp pain on the side of your neckscratch your oily scalp readjust your bra and luxuriate in the low-hanging sun.

Machine-Gunning Butterflies

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I was making good bread as a New York studio musician and jingle writer, anonymous back-room jobs.


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We fell asleep on the couch, alcohol on our breaths. Mambo and cha-cha-cha beats in our knees. Damn two-dollar high-heels left welts on our feet, but we danced all night with different brilliantine men: gold teeth, mustaches, pinky rings that looked too big…

Five Million Yen: Chapter 1

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The DC-9 bounced in the turbulence over the north Pacific waking the dozing Ben Clarone.