#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
half drunk I left her place her warm blankets and I was hungover didn’t even know what town
I saw her when I was in the left… going east on Sunset. she was sitting with her legs crossed reading a paperback.
then there was the time in New Orleans I was living with a fat woman, Marie, in the French Quarter and I got very sick.
listen, man, don’t tell me about t… sent, we didn’t receive them, we are very careful with manuscrip… we bake them burn them
god I got the sad blue blues, this woman sat there and she said are you really Charles Bukowski?
Our man was there to meet us, Gary Benson. He also wrote poetry and drove a cab. He was very fat but at least he didn’t look like a poet, he didn’t look North Beach or East Village or l...
at exactly 12:00 midnight 1973-74 Los Angeles it began to rain on the palm leaves outside my window
the mockingbird had been following… all summer mocking mocking mocking teasing and cocksure; the cat crawled under rockers on p…
are we going to the movies or not? she asked him. all right, he said, let’s go. I’m not going to put any pan ties… so you can finger-fuck me in the
Then Joyce wanted to go back to the city. For all the draw– backs, that little town, haircuts or not, beat city life. It was quiet. We had our own house. Joyce fed me well.) Plenty of m...
I blacked out after that. I guess I had consumed more whiskey than I thought. I don’t remember arriving at Nicole’s. I awakened in the morning with my back to somebody in a strange bed....
you’re a beast, she said your big white belly and those hairy feet. you never cut your nails and you have fat hands
I feel gypped by dunces as if reality were the property of little men with luck and a headstart, and I sit in the cold
the rag. she sat there, glooming. I couldn’t do anything with her. it was raining. she got up and left.
he was a good one say 18, 19, marine and every time woman came down the train aisle