here I am in the ground my mouth open and

she wrote me a letter from a small room near the Seine. she said she was going to dancing class, she got up, she said at 5 o’clock in the morning

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...

the pleasures of the damned are limited to brief moments of happiness: like the eyes in the look of a dog… like a square of wax,

But, there were still bits of action. One guy was caught on the same stairway that I had been trapped on. He was caught there with his head under some girl’s skirt. Then one of the girl...

vain vanilla ladies strutting while van Gogh did it to himself. girls pulling on silk hose

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.

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…

with old cars, especially when you… and drive them for many years a love affair is inevitable: you even learn to accept their little

the Egyptians loved the cat were often entombed with it instead of with the women and never with the dog but now

absolutely sesamoid said the skeleton shoving his chalky foot upon my desk, and that was it,

the house next door makes me sad. both man and wife rise early and go to work. they arrive home in early evening.

I sat in the airport and waited. You never knew about photos. You could never tell. I was nervous. I felt like vomiting. I lit a cigarette and gagged. Why did I do these things? I didn’...