#AmericanWriters
here I am in the ground my mouth open and
places to hunt places to hide are getting harder to find, and pet canaries and goldfish too, did you… that?
the elephants are caked with mud a… and the rhinos don’t move the zebras are stupid dead stems and the lions don’t roar the lions don’t care
what i liked about e.e. cummings was that he cut away from the holiness of the word and with charm
sleepy now at 4 a.m. hear the siren of a white ambulance,
I paid this one’s fare all the way… to San Francisco then flew up to meet her at her br… and I got drunk and talked all night about a redhe…
women don’t know how to love, she told me. you know how to love but women just want to leech.
The boys on Dorsey station didn’t know my problems. I’d enter through the back way each night, hide my sweater in a tray and walk in to get my timecard: We had a game going, the black-w...
sick with the flu drinking beer my radio on loud enough to overcome the sounds of the
I had been corresponding with a lady in San Francisco for several months. Her name was Liza Weston and she survived by giving dance lessons, including ballet, in her own studio. She was...
she wrote me a letter from a small room near the Seine. she said she was going to dancing class, she got up, she said at 5 o’clock in the morning
the soldiers march without guns the graves are empty peacocks glide in the rain down stairways march great men smi… there is food enough and rent enou…
little dark girl with kind eyes when it comes time to use the knife I won’t flinch and
I get many phonecalls now. They are all alike. “are you Charles Bukowski, the writer?” “yes,” I tell them.
I been readin’ you for a long time… I just put Billy Boy to bed, he got 7 mean ticks from somewhere… I got 2, my husband, Benny, he got 3.