#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
these boys have got class they ought to make kings out of old men rolling cigarettes in rooms small enough
a great white light dawns across t… continent as we fawn over our failed traditi… often kill to preserve them or sometimes kill just to kill.
I get many phonecalls now. They are all alike. “are you Charles Bukowski, the writer?” “yes,” I tell them.
It was 3 or 4 days before I had to fly to Houston to give a reading. I went to the track, drank at the track, and afterwards I went to a bar on Hollywood Boulevard. I went home at 9 or ...
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
he was 65, his wife was 66, had Alzheimer’s disease. he had cancer of the mouth. there were
you no faces no faces at all laughing at nothing—
a house with 7 or 8 people living in it getting up the rent. there’s a stereo never used and a set of bongos
She wasn’t really a cop, she was a clerk-cop. And she started coming in and telling me about a guy who wore a purple stick pin and was a “real gentleman.” “Well,” I’d ask, “how was old ...
here they come these guys grey truck radio playing they are in a hurry
Four or five days passed. The phone rang. It was Tammie. “Listen, Hank. You know that little bridge you cross in your car when you drive to my mother’s place?” “Well, right by there the...
After dinner we came back and we talked. She was a health food addict and didn’t eat meat except for chicken and fish. It certainly worked for her. “Hank,” she said, “tomorrow I’m going...
is the slim tall ear-ringed bedroom damsel dressed in a long gown
Then I developed a new system at the racetrack. I pulled in $3,000 in a month and a half while only going to the track two or three times a week. I began to dream. I saw a little house ...
Sam the whorehouse man has squeaky shoes and he walks up and down the court squeaking and talking to