#Americans #XXCentury
at high noon at a small college near the beach sober the sweat running down my arms a spot of sweat on the table
In the betting line the other day man behind me asked, “are you Henry Chinaski?”
We were eating meatballs and spaghetti. My problems were always discussed at dinner time. Dinner time was almost always an unhappy time. I didn’t answer my father’s question. “Henry, an...
he talks like he writes and he has a face like a dove, unt… externals. little shiver of horror runs throu… about
there are worse things than being alone but it often takes de cades to realize this and most often
the higher you climb the greater the pressure. those who manage to endure learn
don’t ever get the idea I am a poe… at the racetrack any day half drun… betting quarters, sidewheelers and… but let me tell you, there are som… who go where the money goes, and s…
crud, he said, hauling it out of the water, what is it? a Hollow-Back June Whale, I said… no, said a guy standing by us on t…
it is not very good to not get through whether it’s the wall the human mind
you’ve got to fuck a great many wo… beautiful women and write a few decent love poems. and don’t worry about age and/or freshly-arrived talents.
a house with 7 or 8 people living in it getting up the rent. there’s a stereo never used and a set of bongos
a poem is a city filled with stree… filled with saints, heroes, beggar… filled with banality and booze, filled with rain and thunder and p… drought, a poem is a city at war,
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.
When I awakened a few hours later, Tanya was not in the bed. It was only 9 am. I found her sitting on the couch drinking out of a pint of whiskey. “I always get up at noon. We’re going ...
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...