#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
here comes the fishhead singing here comes the baked potato in dra… here comes nothing to do all day l… here comes another night of no sle… here comes the phone ringing the w…
consistency is terrific: shark-mouth grubby interior with an almost perfect body, long blazing hair—
we were in bed and she started to fight: “you son of a bitch! you just wait… I’ll get you!” I began laughing:
I had been corresponding with Tanya and on the evening of January 5th she phoned. She had a high excited sexy voice like Betty Boop used to have. “I’m flying down tomorrow evening. Will...
I was glad I had money in the Sav… Friday afternoon hungover I didn’t have a job I was glad I had money in the Sav… I didn’t know how to play a guitar
the men phone and ask me that. are you really Charles Bukowski the writer? they ask. I’m a sometimes writer, I say, most often I don’t do anything.
these things that we support most… have nothing to do with up, and we do with them out of boredom or fear or money or cracked intelligence;
I was a bum in San Francisco but… to go to a symphony concert along… and the music was good but somethi… audience was not and something about the orchestra
Lydia’s sister Angela came to town from Utah to see Lydia’s new house. Lydia had made a down payment on a little place and the monthly payments were very low. It was a very good buy. Th...
liked D . H. Lawrence he could get so indignant he snapped and he ripped with wonderfully energetic sentenc… he could lay the word down
she writes continually like a long nozzle spraying the air,
I’m glad when they arrive and I’m glad when they leave I’m glad when I hear their heels approaching my door and I’m glad when those heels
a symphony orchestra. there is a thunderstorm, they are playing a Wagner overture and the people leave their seats u… and run inside to the pavilion
Thanks for the good letter. I don’t think it hurts, sometimes, to remember where you came from. You know the places where I came from. Even the people who try to write about that or mak...
drunk again at 3 a.m. at the end o… of wine, I have typed from a dozen… poesy an old man maddened for the flesh of young gi…