#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
lonely as a dry and used orchard spread over the earth for use and surrender. shot down like an ex—pug selling dailies on the corner.
my goldfish stares with watery eye… into the hemisphere of my sorrow; upon the thinnest of threads we hang together, hang hang hang
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
they found him walking along the f… all red in front he had taken a rusty tin can and cut off his sexual
you consult psychiatrists and phil… when things aren’t going well and whores when they are. the whores are there for young boy… men; to the young boys they say,
The first three or four days at Mears-Starbuck were identical. In fact, similarity was a very dependable thing at Mears-Starbuck. The caste system was an accepted fact. There wasn’t a s...
I get many phonecalls now. They are all alike. “are you Charles Bukowski, the writer?” “yes,” I tell them.
he talks like he writes and he has a face like a dove, unt… externals. little shiver of horror runs throu… about
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
the weather is hot on the back of… which is down at Finkelstein’s who is gifted with 3 balls but no heart, but you’ve got to un… when the bull goes down
I am a panther shut up and bellowi… cement walls, and I am angry at bl… evenings without ventilation and I am angry with you, and it wi… like a rose
A sound awakened me. It was not quite daylight. Cecelia was moving around getting dressed. I looked at my watch. “I want to watch the sun come up. I love sunrises!” “I haven’t been able...
Born like this Into this As the chalk faces smile As Mrs. Death laughs As the elevators break
if I suffer at this typewriter think how I’d feel among the lettuce-pickers of Salinas?
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.