and the sun wields mercy but like a jet torch carried to hi… and the jets whip across its sight and rockets leap like toads, and the boys get out the maps

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 is like this when you slip down, done like a wound-up victrola (you remember those?) and you go downtown

the acute and terrible air hangs w… as summer birds mingle in the bran… and warble and mystify the clamor of the mind… an old parrot

Lydia and I were always fighting. She was a flirt and it irritated me. When we ate out I was sure she was eyeballing some man across the room. When my male friends came by to visit and ...

one of Lorca’s best lines is, “agony, always agony ...” think of this when you

the balance is preserved by the sn… the Santa Monica cliffs; the luck is in walking down Wester… and having the girls in a massage parlor holler at you, “Hello, Swe…

I keep thinking it will be outside now waiting for me blue front bumper twisted

murder the roaches spit out paper clips and the helicopter circles and cir… smelling for blood

they get up on their garage roof both of them 80 or 90 years old standing on the slant she wanting to fall really all the way

So I took the exam, passed it, took the physical, passed it, and there I was—a substitute mail carrier. It began easy. I was sent to West Avon Station and it was just like Christmas exc...

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.

feet of cheese coffeepot soul hands that hate poolsticks eyes like paperclips I prefer red wine

the old folks play a game in the park overlooking the sea shoving markers across cement with wooden sticks. four play, two on each side