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

is the slim tall ear-ringed bedroom damsel dressed in a long gown

I cut the middle fingernail of the… finger right hand real short and I began rubbing along her cunt

The toughest in the station. Apartment houses with boxes that had scrubbed-out names or no names at all, under tiny lightbulbs in dark halls. Old ladies standing in halls, up and down t...

twitching in the sheets— to face the sunlight again, that’s clearly trouble. I like the city better when the

I saw a vacancy sign in the window in front of a rooming-house, had the cabby pull up. I paid him and walked up on the front porch, rang the bell. I had one black eye from the fight, an...

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.

watch them push the crippled and t… in their wheelchairs on to the electric lift which carries them up into the lon… where each chair is locked down

my mother, father and I walked to the market once a week for our government relief food: cans of beans, cans of

A couple of nights later Becker walked in. I guess my parents gave him my address or he located me through the college. I had my name and address listed with the employment division at ...