She bent over me again. Blood began to move around in me, like a prospective tenant looking over a house.

I was as hollow and empty as the spaces between stars.

Throw up into your typewriter every morning. Clean up every noon.

You're broke, eh?" I been shaking two nickels together for a month, trying to get them to mate.

I like smooth shiny girls, hardboiled and loaded with sin.

The more you reason the less you create.

The streets were dark with something more then night.