#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
welcome to my wormy hell. the music grinds off-key. fish eyes watch from the wall. this is where the last happy shot… fired.
I got in the shower and burned my balls last Wednesday. met this painter called Spain, no, he was a cartoonist,
once starving in Philadelphia I had a small room it was evening going into night and I stood at my window on the 3r…
When I awakened it was 1:30 pm. I took a bath, got dressed, checked the mail. A letter from a young man in Glendale. "Dear Mr. Chinaski: I am a young writer and I think that I am a good...
he said, “I was working in Hollyw… working in Hollywood and he was the worst: he was too drunk to sta… end of the afternoon and so I had… into a taxi
sleepy now at 4 a.m. hear the siren of a white ambulance,
the girls were young and worked the streets but often couldn’t score, they
if I suffer at this typewriter think how I’d feel among the lettuce-pickers of Salinas?
I met an old drunk on the street one afternoon. I used to know him from the days with Betty when we made the rounds of the bars. He told me that he was now a postal clerk and that there...
sitting on a 2nd-floor porch at 1:… while looking out over the city. could be worse. we needn’t accomplish great things…
Making love in the sun, in the mor… in a hotel room above the alley where poor men poke for bottles; making love in the sun
my friend William is a fortunate m… he lacks the imagination to suffer he kept his first job his first wife can drive a car 50,000 miles
the rag. she sat there, glooming. I couldn’t do anything with her. it was raining. she got up and left.
Then there were only 6 or 7 of us.… “How you doing on your scheme, Ch… “No trouble at all,” I said. “O.… “Yes, Woodburn.” “Listen, I don’t like to be bothe…
“your poems about the girls will s… 50 years from now when the girls a… my editor phones me. dear editor: the girls appear to be gone