#AmericanWriters
the wind blows hard tonight and it’s a cold wind and I think about the boys on the row. I hope some of them have a bottle…
too much too little too fat too thin or nobody. laughter or
{{the phone rang at 1:30 a.m. and it was a man from Denver:}} “Chinaski, you got a following in Denver...” “yeah?”
when you’re young a pair of female high-heeled shoes just sitting
by God, I don’t know what to do. they’re so nice to have around. they have a way of playing with the balls
225 days under grass and you know more than I. they have long taken your blood, you are a dry stick in a basket. is this how it works?
she was a short one getting fat and she had once been beautiful and she drank the wine she drank the wine in bed and
the lady has me temporarily off th… and now the pecker stands up better. however, things change overnight— instead of listening to Shostakovi…
this head like a saucer decorated with everything as lip to lip we hang in mechanical joy; my hands blaze with arias
In the betting line the other day man behind me asked, “are you Henry Chinaski?”
you haven’t lived until you’ve been in a flophouse with nothing but one light bulb
I have lain in bed all day but I have written one poem and I am up now looking out the window and like a novelist might say
I’ll settle for the 6 horse on a rainy afternoon a paper cup of coffee in my hand a little way to go,
I met a genius on the train today about 6 years old, he sat beside me and as the train
out of the arm of one love and into the arms of another I have been saved from dying on th… by a lady who smokes pot writes songs and stories