#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
the men phone and ask me that. are you really Charles Bukowski the writer? they ask. I’m a sometimes writer, I say, most often I don’t do anything.
the kid went back to New York Cit… he met in a kibbutz. he left his mother at the age of 32, a well-kept fellow, sense of h… wore the same pair of shorts
I met her somehow through correspo… and she began sending me very sexy… and this being mixed in with a min… confused me somewhat and I got in… through the mountains and valleys…
old Butch, they fixed him the girls don’t look like much anymore. when Big Sam moved out of the back
Within a day or two, about 1 pm in the afternoon there was a knock at my door. It was a painter, Monty Riff, or so he informed me. He also told me that I used to get drunk with him when...
the old fart, he used his literary… to reel them in one at a time, each younger than the last. he liked to meet them for luncheon… wine
look there. the one you considered killing you… for. you saw her the other day getting out of her car
watch them push the crippled and t… in their wheelchairs on to the electric lift which carries them up into the lon… where each chair is locked down
I went into the bends. I got drunker and stayed drunker than a shit skunk in Purgatory. I even had the butcher knife against my throat one night in the kitchen and then I thought, easy,...
I’m not going to die easy; I’ve sat on your suicide beds in some of the worst holes in America,
On the elevator up, I was the only white man there. It seemed strange. They talked about the riots, not looking at me. “Jesus,” said a coal black guy, "it’s really something. These guys...
I went to this place to see a movi… on tv Alexander the Great, and here come the armies ta ta ta
The funeral was to be at 10:30 a.m. but it was already hot. I had on a cheap black suit, bought and fitted in a rush. It was my first new suit in years. I had located the son. We drove ...
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…
To end up alone in a tomb of a room without cigarettes or wine— just a lightbulb