#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
I took women either to the boxing matches or to the racetrack. That Thursday night I took Katherine to the boxing matches at the Olympic auditorium. She had never been to a live fight. ...
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,
probably from the belly button or… bed, or maybe from the mouth of th… the car crash on the avenue that l… scattered on the grass. she comes from love gone wrong und…
out of the arms of one love and into the arms of another I have been saved from dying on th… by a lady who smokes pot writes songs and stories,
Sam the whorehouse man has squeaky shoes and he walks up and down the court squeaking and talking to
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.
An old man asked me for a cigarett… and I carefully dealt out two. Been lookin’ for job. Gonna stand in the sun and smoke.” He was close to rags and rage
I went upstairs to 409, had a stiff scotch and water, took some money out of the top drawer, went down the steps, got in my car and drove to the racetrack. I got there in time for the f...
Lydia had two children; Tonto, a boy of 8, and Lisa, the little girl of 5 who had interrupted our first fuck. We were together at the table one night eating dinner. Things were going we...
I took Tanya to Santa Anita. The current sensation was a 16 year old jockey still riding with his 5 pound bug advantage. He was from the east and was riding at Santa Anita for the first...
I was casing next to G.G. early one morning. That’s what they called him: G.G. His actual name was George Greene. But for years he was simply called G.G. and after a while he looked lik...
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.
I sit here on the 2nd floor hunched over in yellow pajamas still pretending to be a writer.
I was coming home from classes down Westview hill. I never had any books to carry. I passed my exams by listening to the class lectures and by guessing at the answers. I never had to cr...
they talk down through the centuries to us, and this we need more and more, the statues and paintings in midnight age