#AmericanWriters
god I got the sad blue blues, this woman sat there and she said are you really Charles Bukowski?
call it the greenhouse effect or w… but it just doesn’t rain like it u… I particularly remember the rains… depression era. there wasn’t any money but there w…
maybe I’ll win the Irish Sweepsta… maybe I’ll go nuts maybe Harcourt Brace will call or maybe unemployment insurance or rich lesbian at the top of a hill.
they called Céline a Nazi they called Pound a fascist they called Hamsun a Nazi and a f… they put Dostoevsky in front of a… squad
I kept getting letters from a lady who lived only a mile or so away. She signed them Nicole. She said she had read some of my books and liked them. I answered one of her letters and she...
I was standing in line at the bank… when the old fellow in front of me dropped his glasses (luckily, with… case) and as he bent over
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
we like to shower afterwards (I like the water hotter than she) and her face is always soft and pe… and she’ll wash me first spread the soap over my balls
drunk on the dark streets of some… it’s night, you’re lost, where’s y… room? you enter a bar to find yourself, order scotch and water.
these boys have got class they ought to make kings out of old men rolling cigarettes in rooms small enough
the girls are coming home in their… and I sit by the window and watch. there’s a girl in a red dress driving a white car
Markov claims I am trying to stab his soul but I’d prefer his wife. put my feet on the coffee table and he says,
sway with me, everything sad— madmen in stone houses without doors, lepers steaming love and song frogs trying to figure
sick with the flu drinking beer my radio on loud enough to overcome the sounds of the
The drilling and squeezing continued for weeks but there was little result. When one boil vanished another would appear. I often stood in front of the mirror alone, wondering how ugly a...