#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
the drifting of the mind. the slow loss, the leaking away. one’s demise is not very interesti… from my bed I watch 3 birds throug… one coal black, one dark brown, th…
the strong men the muscle men there they sit down at the beach cocoa tans
think of de vils in hell and stare at a beautiful vase of flowers as the woman in my bedroom
it’s the same as before or the other time or the time before that. here’s a cock and here’s a cunt
the dead can sleep they don’t get up and rage they don’t have a wife. her white face like a flower in a closed
she wrote me a letter from a small room near the Seine. she said she was going to dancing class, she got up, she said at 5 o’clock in the morning
I paid this one’s fare all the way… to San Francisco then flew up to meet her at her br… and I got drunk and talked all night about a redhe…
Either peace or happiness, let it enfold you when I was a young man I felt these things were dumb, unsophisticated.
They had me in the counselor’s office in one of the back rooms of the second floor. “Let me see how you look, Chinaski.” He looked at me. “All right, Mr. Chinaski, we’d like to know whe...
I got his ashes, she said, and I… out to sea and I scattered his ash… they didn’t even look like ashes and the urn was weighted with
vain vanilla ladies strutting while van Gogh did it to himself. girls pulling on silk hose
god I got the sad blue blues, this woman sat there and she said are you really Charles Bukowski?
Again I was on a new route. The Stone always put me on hard routes, but now and then, due to the circumstances of things, he was forced to place me on one less murderous. Route 511 was ...
he buys 5 cars a month, details th… them out, then resells them at a profit of one or… he has a nice Jewish wife and he t… bangs her until the walls shake.
her shoes themselves would light my room like many candles. she walks like all things shining on glass,