#Americans #XXCentury
I got lucky the next day. They called my name. It was a different doctor. I stripped down. He turned a hot white light on me and looked me over. I was sitting on the edge of the examina...
It’s never quite right, he said, t… the way the music sounds, the way… written. It’s never quite right, he said, a… taught, all the loves we chase, al…
I went with two ladies down to Venice to look for antique furniture. I parked in back of the store and went in with them.
Every night was about the same. I’d drive along the coast looking for a place to have dinner. I wanted an expensive place that wasn’t too crowded. I developed a nose for those places. I...
stepped into the wrong end of the… right leg which was bad to begin w… with a tv writer and an actor, som… life to make a sitcom and luckily… day at the track I get a box seat…
Then Joyce wanted to go back to the city. For all the draw– backs, that little town, haircuts or not, beat city life. It was quiet. We had our own house. Joyce fed me well.) Plenty of m...
While working Dorsey station I heard some of the old timers needling Big Daddy Greystone about how he’d had to buy a tape recorder in order to learn his schemes. Big Daddy had read the ...
big black beard tells me that I don’t feel terror I look at him
you just don’t know how to do it, you know that, and you can’t do a lot of other useful things either. it’s the fault of the
am sitting on a tin chair outside… death, on stinking wings, wafts th… halls forevermore. remember the hospital stenches fro… was a boy and when I was a man and…
it beats love because there aren’t… wounds: in the morning she turns on the radio, Brahms or… or Stravinsky or Mozart. she boil… eggs counting the seconds out loud…
he’s 17 . mother, he said, how do I crack an egg? all right, she said to me, you don… sit there looking like that.
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…
you no faces no faces at all laughing at nothing—
god I got the sad blue blues, this woman sat there and she said are you really Charles Bukowski?