#Americans #XXCentury #1973 #AtTerrorStreetAndAgonyWay #BurningInWaterDrowningInFlame
you’ve got to fuck a great many women beautiful women and write a few decent love poems. and don’t worry about age and/or freshly-arrived talents.
#1977 #LoveIsADogFromHell
I forget the beginning time. 6 or 7 p.m. Something like that. All you did was sit with a handful of letters, take a streetmap and figure your run. It was easy. All the drivers took much...
#1971 #PostOffice
I can’t have it and you can’t have it and we won’t get it so don’t bet on it
blue fish, the blue night, a blue knife— everything is blue. and my cats are blue: blue fur, blue cla… blue whiskers, blue eyes. my bed lamp shines
#1993 #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
By the time they called me to dinner I was able to pull up my clothing and walk to the breakfast nook where we ate all our meals except on Sunday. There were two pillows on my chair. I ...
#1982 #HamOnRye
we have everything and we have nothing and some men do it in churches and some men do it by tearing butterflie… in half and some men do it in Palm Springs
#1973 #BurningInWaterDrowningInFlame #CrucifixInADeathhand
think of de vils in hell and stare at a beautiful vase of flowers as the woman in my bedroom
When I awakened it was 1:30 pm. I took a bath, got dressed, checked the mail. A letter from a young man in Glendale. "Dear Mr. Chinaski: I am a young writer and I think that I am a good...
#1978 #Women
I was standing in line at the bank today when the old fellow in front of me dropped his glasses (luckily, within the case) and as he bent over
I had been corresponding with Tanya and on the evening of January 5th she phoned. She had a high excited sexy voice like Betty Boop used to have. “I’m flying down tomorrow evening. Will...
drinking German beer and trying to come up with the immortal poem at 5 p.m. in the afternoon. but, ah, I’ve told the
he talks like he writes and he has a face like a dove, untouched… externals. little shiver of horror runs through me… about
you with long hair, legs crossed high, s… the bar, you like a butcher knife agains… as the nightingale sings elsewhere while… mingles with the roach’s hiss. know you as
I kept getting letters from a lady who lived only a mile or so away. She signed them Nicole. She said she had read some of my books and liked them. I answered one of her letters and she...
sometimes you climb out of bed in the mo… I’m not going to make it, but you laugh… remembering all the times you’ve felt th… you walk to the bathroom, do your toilet… in the mirror, oh my oh my oh my, but yo…