#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
takes lot of desperation dissatisfaction and
we are always asked to understand the other person’s viewpoint no matter how out—dated
not much chance, completely cut loose from purpose, he was a young man riding a bus
I’d tell them to have an unhappy l… affair, hemorrhoids, bad teeth and to drink cheap wine, avoid opera and golf and chess, to keep switching the head of thei…
I found a room on Temple Street in the Filipino district. It was $3.50 a week, upstairs on the second floor. I paid the landlady—a middle-aged blond—a week’s rent. The toilet and tub we...
as the poems go into the thousands… realize that you’ve created very little. it comes down to the rain, the sun… the traffic, the nights and the da…
I don’t know how many bottles of b… I have consumed while waiting for… to get better. I don’t know how much wine and whi… and beer
So gramps wrote Joyce a big check and there we were. We rented a little house up on a hill, and then Joyce got this stupid moralistic thing. “We both ought to get jobs,” Joyce said, “to...
eating cold plums in bed she told me about the German who owned everything on the block except the custom drapery shop and he tried to buy
had it for a year, really put in lot of bedroom time, slept upright on two pillows to keep from coughing, all the blood drained from my head
you haven’t lived until you’ve been in a flophouse with nothing but one light bulb
god I got the sad blue blues, this woman sat there and she said are you really Charles Bukowski?
she died of alcoholism wrapped in a blanket on a deck chair on an ocean steamer.
A day or so later I got a poem in the mail from Lydia. It was a long poem and it began: Come out, old troll, Come out of your dark hole, old troll, Come out into the sunlight with us an...
each man must realize that it can all disappear very quickly: the cat, the woman, the job, the front tire,