“soon I'll finish this 5th ofPuerto Rican rum.in the morning I'll vomit andshower, drive backin, have a sandwich by 1 p.m.,be back in my room by2,stretched on the bed,waiting for the phone to ring,not answering,my holiday is anevasion, mt reasoningis not.”

“in the cupboard sits my bottlelike a dwarf waiting to scratch out my prayers.I drink and cough like some idiot at a symphony,sunlight and maddened birds are everywhere,the phone rings gamboling its soundagainst the odds of the crooked sea;I drink deeply and evenly now,I drink to paradiseand deathand the lie of love.”

“When I get down to my last dime I'll just walk over to skid row.""There are some real weirdos down there.""They're everywhere.”

“I carry death in my left pocket. Sometimes I take it out and talk to it: "Hello, baby, how you doing? When you coming for me? I'll be ready.”

“Lydia came back to bed. We didn't kiss each other. We weren't going to have sex. I felt weary. I listened to the crickets. I don't know how much time went by. I was almost asleep, not quite, when Lydia suddenly sat straight up in bed. And she screamed. It was a loud scream. "What is it?" I asked. "Be quiet." I waited. Lydia sat there without moving, for what seemed to be about ten minutes. Then she fell back on her pillow. "I saw God," she said, "I just saw God." "Listen, you bitch, you are going to drive me crazy!”

“I don't remember going to bed, but in the morning, there I was.”

“The dog approached again, cautiously. I found the bologna sandwich, ripped off a chunk, wiped the cheap watery mustard off, then placed it on the sidewalk.The dog walked up to the bit of sandwich, put his nose to it, sniffed, then turned and walked off. This time he didn't look back. He accelerated down the street.No wonder I had been depressed all my life. I wasn't getting proper nourishment. ”