When I awakened it was 1:30 pm. I took a bath, got dressed, checked the mail. A letter from a young man in Glendale. "Dear Mr. Chinaski: I am a young writer and I think that I am a good...

in the earliest possible day in the blue-headed noon I will telegraph you a boney hand decorated with

to be writing poetry at the age of… like a schoolboy, surely, I must be crazy; racetracks and booze and arguments with the landlord;

I’m in bed. it’s morning and I hear: where are your socks? please get dressed!

you shoulda been at this party, I know you hate parties but you seem to be at most of them… anyhow, I took my girl, you know her—

sit on this bench and look at the sea and the freaks and the lovers. need new eyes a new mouth new pillows, a new woman.

turmoil is the god madness is the god permanent living peace is permanent living death. agony can kill

neither does this mean the dead are at the door begging bread before

in the hospitals I’ve been in you see the crosses on the walls with the thin palm leaves behind t… yellowed and browned it is the signal to accept the ine…