#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
sleepy now at 4 a.m. hear the siren of a white ambulance,
I wait on life like a pregnancy, p… the gut but all I hear now is the piano slamming its teeth throu… brain
I get many phonecalls now. They are all alike. “are you Charles Bukowski, the writer?” “yes,” I tell them.
the higher you climb the greater the pressure. those who manage to endure learn
a very miraculous thing just happe… my beerbottle flipped over backwar… and landed on its bottom on the fl… and I have set it upon the table t… but the photos were not so lucky t…
some people never go crazy. me, sometimes I’ll lie down behind… for 3 or 4 days. they’ll find me there. it’s Cherub, they’ll say, and
naked in that bright light the four horse falls and throws a 112-pound boy into the hooves
horses running with her miles away laughing with a fool Bach and the hydrogen bomb
well, first Mae West died and then George Raft, and Eddie G. Robinson’s been gone long time,
I walked off the job again and the police stopped me for running a red light at Serrano… my mind was rather gone and I stood in a patch of leaves
We had another fight. Later I was back at my place but I didn’t feel like sitting there alone and drinking. The night harness racing meet was on. I took a pint and went out to the track...
this fear of being what they are: dead. at least they are not out on the s… are careful to stay indoors, those pasty mad who sit alone before the…
he hooked to the body hard took it well and loved to fight had seven in a row and a small fle… over one eye,
We had a 3:30 pm flight out of Los Angeles that Saturday. At 2 pm I went up and knocked on Tammie’s door. She wasn’t there. I want back to my place and sat down. The phone rang. It was ...
A week later I was driving down Hollywood Boulevard with Lydia. A weekly entertainment newspaper published in California at that time had asked me to write an article on the life of the...