#Americans #XXCentury #1977 #LoveIsADogFromHell
But the next morning it was the sa… “That’s all, Chinaski. Nothing fo… It went on for a week. I sat ther… Then Bobby Hansen, one of the old… “I don’t care. I’m not kissing hi…
To pacify Lydia I agreed to go to Muleshead, Utah. Her sister was camping in the mountains. The sisters actually owned much of the land. It had been inherited from their father. Glendol...
That summer, July 1934, they gunned down John Dillinger outside the movie house in Chicago. He never had a chance. The Lady in Red had fingered him. More than a year earlier the banks h...
she undressed in front of me keeping her pussy to the front while I lay in bed with a bottle o… beer. where’d you get that wart on
my father always said, “early to b… early to rise makes a man healthy,… and wise.” it was lights out at 8 p.m. in our… and we were up at dawn to the smel…
he was just a cat cross-eyed, dirty white with pale blue eyes
around 2 a.m. in my small room after turning off the poem machine for now
she reads to me from the New York… which I don’t buy, don’t know how they get in here, but it’s something about the Mafia one of the heads of the Mafia
unaccountably we are alone forever alone and it was meant to be that way, was never meant
I get many phonecalls now. They are all alike. “are you Charles Bukowski, the writer?” “yes,” I tell them.
listening to Bruckner on the radio wondering why I’m not half mad over the latest breakup with my latest girlfriend wondering why I’m not driving the…
I was sitting next to a young girl who didn’t know her scheme very well. “Where does 2900 Roteford go?" she asked me. "Try throwing it to 33," I told her. “You say you’re from Kansas Ci...
The ultra-violet ray machine clicked off. I had been treated on both sides. I took off the goggles and began to dress. Miss Ackerman walked in. “Not yet,” she said, “keep your clothes o...
he came to the door one night wet… terrorized white cross-eyed tailless cat took him in and fed him and he sta… grew to trust me until a friend dr…
they’d come around and they’d ask “you finished your 2nd novel yet?” “no.”