#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
the wind blows hard to night and it’s a cold wind and I think about the boys on the row. hope some of them have a bottle
sick with the flu drinking beer my radio on loud enough to overcome the sounds of the
Style is the answer to everything. A fresh way to approach a dull or… To do a dull thing with style is p… To do a dangerous thing with style… Bullfighting can be an art
red-eyed and dizzy as I the bird came flying all the way from Egypt at 5 o’clock in the morning, and Maria almost stumbled on her s…
we fought for 17 days inside that… thrusting and counter-thrusting but finally she got away and I walked outside and spit
Her father really hated me. He thought I was after his money. I didn’t want his god damned money. And I didn’t even want his god damned precious daughter. The only time I ever saw him w...
he carried a piece of carbon, a blade and a whip and at night he feared his head and covered it with blankets
the 3 horse clipped the heels of the 7, they both went down and the 9 stumbled over them, jocks rolling, horses’ legs flung skyward.
the vultures at the zoo (all three of them) sit very quietly in their caged tree and below
I stayed five days and nights. Then I couldn’t get it up any more. Joanna drove me to the airport. She had bought me a new piece of luggage and some new clothing. I hated that Dallas-Fo...
The next day was Saturday and Debra cooked us breakfast. “Are you coming antique hunting with us today?” We ate in silence for a while, then she said, “I liked your reading at The Lance...
cimen altinda gecen 225 gunden son… kanini emip bitireli epey oldu, ar… bu isler boyle mi oluyor? bu odada hala ask saatlerinin golg… birakip gittiginde asagi yukari he…
here comes the fishhead singing here comes the baked potato in dra… here comes nothing to do all day l… here comes another night of no sle… here comes the phone ringing the w…
long ago he edited a little magazi… was up in San Francisco during the beat era during the reading-poetry-with-jaz… and I remember him because he neve…
god I got the sad blue blues, this woman sat there and she said are you really Charles Bukowski?