Sonny Liston Was a Friend of Mine: Stories
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Twelve stories that teeter between wicked humor and stinging pathos encompassdilapidated right arenas, state mental hospitals, and chaotic emergency roomswhere the inhabitants are brilliantly etched characters.
highly unpleasant, but in the end I suffered less, overall, than my drinking companions, most of whom acquired a case of the crabs or the clap or both. I had a black eye and the tattoo, but these guys were pulling giant red bugs from their drawers. They were right on the cusp between being able to stand it and seeking medical aid. Gerber thought he could make it go away by taking aspirin, but just before we pulled liberty, he put a new combination lock on his footlocker and promptly lost the
City. I appreciate the fact they don’t waste electricity. That’s one good thing. But it’s too late, the ecosystem is done for. Might as well take a flying fuck at the moon than straighten out that mess. If it just hang together until I die, then fine. What do Ondine care? He hates hisself. I ain’t even going to blame my pessimism on the war. I tell it straight. Ain’t no rationalize. Back in the Nam, Hollywood say, “’A rose is a rose is a rose,’ but what’s a rhinocer-rose?” He said that on his
Doctor John, Smokey Robinson Turtle. Jimi Turtle with his electric guitar singing, I’m a voodoo chile and more. Who was that Mafia cat, the Big Tuna? I believe I see him. The seas are spooky. The Dead Sea, she’s a bad one. The San Francisco Bay is cold and turbulate, with wicked riptides, but the sharks there, they won’t kill you. That’s just another falsify. You drown and the shark might eat you. Or maybe a big one will blow in off course from somewhere and bite somebody by accident. But the
coffee down to dissolve the pills faster and then got on the Slumber King and assumed the position. It was like being at the opera or some gala affair awaiting the greatest production of pleasure life could deliver. Ensconced in the Slumber King, Matthew Billis, who had been so tormented by relentless depression, who had come to feel so bad that not even taking a shit felt good, and who was bereft of a single endorphin, waited for the buzz of a lifetime. It was a buzz with a wow factor of ten. He
throat. “Dear Lord, thanks for the food, leftovers though they may be, and the roof over our heads. Thanks for the crappy weather since it canceled the VA Christmas entertainment. That was a blessing. Amen.” Maria and Mrs. Gordon joined the line, picking up serving trays while Freddy helped Stephens pull a case of milk out of the refrigerator and set it next to the serving table. When Stephens gave Freddy a cigarette and a light, Freddy said, “The devil has left the premises!” Charlie White