#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
I was in the 4th grade when I found out about it. I was probably one of the last to know, because I still didn’t talk to anybody. A boy walked up to “Your mother has a hole . . .”—he to...
yes, it’s dark in here. can’t open the door. can’t open the jam lid. can’t find a pair of socks that ma… was born in Andernach in 1920 and…
On Thursday night Bobby phoned again. “Hey, man, what are you doing?” “Oh, come on, man, I’ll just stay for a few beers. . . .” “You treat him mean. He gets lonely when his wife is at w...
sleepy now at 4 a.m. hear the siren of a white ambulance,
god I got the sad blue blues, this woman sat there and she said are you really Charles Bukowski?
the essence of the belly like a white balloon sacked is disturbing like the running of feet on the stairs
A month went by. R.A. Dwight, the editor of Dogbite Press wrote and asked me to do a foreword to Keesing’s Selected Poems. Keesing, with the help of his death, was at last going to get ...
I’m big I suppose that’s why my women alwa… small but this 6 foot goddess who deals in real estate
this one always arrives at the wrong time a basically good sort I suppose an honest man
it was Philly and the bartender sa… what and I said, gimme a draft, J… got to get the nerves straight, I’… going to look for a job. you, he s… a job?
first time my father overheard me… this bit of music he asked me, “what is it?” “it’s called Love For Three Oran… I informed him.
They are building a house half a block down and I sit up here with the shades down listening to the sounds,
in the hospitals I’ve been in you see the crosses on the walls with the thin palm leaves behind t… yellowed and browned it is the signal to accept the ine…
the words have come and gone, I sit ill. the phone rings, the cats sleep. Linda vacuums. I am waiting to live,
starving there, sitting around the… and at night walking the streets f… hours, the moonlight always seemed fake to me, maybe it was,