#Americans #XXCentury #1993 #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned
The drilling and squeezing continued for weeks but there was little result. When one boil vanished another would appear. I often stood in front of the mirror alone, wondering how ugly a...
Graduation Day. We filed in with our caps and gowns to “Pomp and Circumstance.” I suppose that in our three years we must have learned something. Our ability to spell had probably impro...
It was 3 or 4 days before I had to fly to Houston to give a reading. I went to the track, drank at the track, and afterwards I went to a bar on Hollywood Boulevard. I went home at 9 or ...
sitting in a dark bedroom with 3 j… female. brown paper bags filled with trash… everywhere. is one-thirty in the afternoon.
no way back to Barcelona. the green soldiers have invaded th… madmen rule Spain and during a heat wave in 1952 I b… no way back to the Rock of Gibral…
don’t undress my love you might find a mannequin: don’t undress the mannequin you might find my love.
our marriage book, it says. I look through it. they lasted ten years. they were young once.
is the slim tall ear-ringed bedroom damsel dressed in a long gown
the rooms at the hospital went for 550 a day. that was for the room alone. the amazing thing, though, was tha… in some of the rooms
“...I’ve seen people in front of their typewriters in such a bind that it would blow their intestine… right out of their assholes if the… were trying to shit.”
went for a walk on Hollywood Boul… looked down and there was a large… walking beside me. his pace was exactly the same as m… we stopped at traffic signals toge…
in grievous deity my cat walks around he walks around and around with electric tail and
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.
There was this place. It stretched over the sea, it was built over the sea. An old place, but with a touch of class. We got a room on the first floor. You could hear the ocean running d...
this head like a saucer decorated with everything as lip to lip we hang in mechanical joy; my hands blaze with arias