dying for a beer dying for and of life on a windy afternoon in Hollywood listening to symphony music from m… on the floor.

don’t worry about rejections, pard… I’ve been rejected before. sometimes you make a mistake, taki… the wrong poem

The first thing I remember is being under something. It was a table, I saw a table leg, I saw the legs of the people, and a portion of the tablecloth hanging down. It was dark under the...

I met her somehow through correspo… and she began sending me very sexy… and this being mixed in with a min… confused me somewhat and I got in… through the mountains and valleys…

liked D . H. Lawrence he could get so indignant he snapped and he ripped with wonderfully energetic sentenc… he could lay the word down

I don’t know how many bottles of b… I have consumed while waiting for… to get better. I don’t know how much wine and whi… and beer

she writes continually like a long nozzle spraying the air,

But the next morning it was the sa… “That’s all, Chinaski. Nothing fo… It went on for a week. I sat ther… Then Bobby Hansen, one of the old… “I don’t care. I’m not kissing hi…

My mother went to her low-paying job each morning and my father, who didn’t have a job, left each morning too. Although most of the neighbors were unemployed he didn’t want them to thin...

all of a sudden I’m a painter. a girl from Galveston gives me $50 for a painting of a man holding a candycane while floating in a darkened sky.

Abe Mortenson was had enough to be around but he was just a fool. You can forgive a fool because he only runs in one direction and doesn’t deceive anybody. It’s the deceivers who make y...

I looked for a job all summer and couldn’t find one. Jimmy Hatcher caught on at an aircraft plant. Hitler was acting up in Europe and creating jobs for the unemployed. I had been with J...

I’ve always had trouble with money. this one place I worked everybody ate hot dogs and potato chips

the old fart, he used his literary… to reel them in one at a time, each younger than the last. he liked to meet them for luncheon… wine

used to drive those trucks so hard and for so long that my right foot would go dead from pushing down on the accelerator.