I haven't read this work, but there's probably a reason it's remained unproduced and unpublished for so long. After the death of his lover Frank Merlo in 1964, Williams spent the rest of his life suffering long bouts of depression and in a constant alcohol and drug-induced haze -- and his work suffered for it. While he wrotes dozens of plays, screenplays, and stories, none of them approached the mastery of his work in the 40s and 50s and a lot of it is downright embarassing.
This work was apparently written in 1980, just a couple of years before his death (he choked on the bottle cap from one of the innumerable bottles of pills he ingested daily). While it'll probably be an interesting little curio (like much of his later work), I wouldn't expect it to be some lost masterpiece.
"What a story........ everything but the bloodhounds snappin' at her rear end." -- Birdie
[http://margochanning.broadwayworld.com/]
"The Devil Be Hittin' Me" -- Whitney