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Charles Bukowski

Charles Bukowski

his wife, the painter

There are sketches on the walls of men and women and ducks,
and outside a large green bus swerves through traffic like
insanity sprung from a waving line; Turgenev, Turgenev,
says the radio, and Jane Austin, Jane Austin, too.
“I am going to do her portrait on the 28th, while you are
at work.”

#Americans #XXCentury #1993 #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned

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Otras obras de Charles Bukowski...
liberated woman and liberated man

look there. the one you considered killing you… for. you saw her the other day getting out of her car
Ham on Rye: 35

The bandages were helpful. L.A. County Hospital had finally come up with something. The boils drained. They didn’t vanish but they flattened a bit. Yet some new ones would appear and ri...
Women: 2

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...
Letter To John Martin

Thanks for the good letter. I don’t think it hurts, sometimes, to remember where you came from. You know the places where I came from. Even the people who try to write about that or mak...
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moaning and groaning

she writes: you’ll be moaning and groaning in your poems about how I fucked those 2 guys last week.
Post Office. Chapter III: 2

I phoned Joyce. “How’s it working with Purple Sti… “What did he do when you told him… “We were sitting across from each… “What happened?”
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oh, yes

there are worse things than being alone but it often takes de cades to realize this and most often
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Women: 92

I didn’t do much the rest of the week. The Oaktree meet was on. I went to the track 2 or 3 times, broke even. I wrote a dirty story for a sex mag, wrote 10 or 12 poems, masturbated, and...
A Challenge to the Dark

shot in the eye shot in the brain shot in the ass shot like a flower in the dance amazing how death wins hands down
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Self-Portrait with a Bottle of Wine, by Edvard Munch
an almost made up poem

I see you drinking at a fountain w… blue hands, no, your hands are not… they are small, and the fountain i… where you wrote me that last lette… I answered and never heard from yo…
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The Beast

Beowulf may have killed Grendel a… Grendel’s mother but he couldn’t kill this one:
like a flower in the rain

I cut the middle fingernail of the… finger right hand real short and I began rubbing along her cunt
Death of an idiot

he spoke to mice and sparrows and his hair was white at the age… his father beat him every day and… lit candles in the church. his grandmother came while the boy…
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the German hotel

the German hotel was very strange… double doors to the rooms, very th… looked the park and the vasser ter… it was usually too late for breakf… would be everywhere changing sheet…
a time to remember

at North Avenue 21 drunk tank you… there was always some guy who woul… way to the crapper and then you would curse him good,… he would know enough to either be…



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