I’ve come by, she says, to tell yo… that this is it. I’m not kidding,… over. this is it. I sit on the couch watching her ar… her long red hair before my bedroo…

my daughter is most glorious. we are eating a takeout snack in my car in Santa Monica.

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.

I was hungover again, another heat spell was on—a week of 100 degree days. The drinking went on each night, and in the early mornings and days there was The Stone and the impossibility ...

at exactly 12:00 midnight 1973-74 Los Angeles it began to rain on the palm leaves outside my window

the strong men the muscle men there they sit down at the beach cocoa tans

it’s the same as before or the other time or the time before that. here’s a cock and here’s a cunt

That evening I started drinking. It wasn’t going to be easy without Katherine. I found some things she had left behind—earrings, a bracelet. I’ve got to get back to the typewriter, I th...

I suppose so. I was living in an attic in Phila… it became very hot in the summer a… bars. I didn’t have any money and… I put a small ad in the paper and…

I used to hold my social security… up in the air, he told me, but I was so small they couldn’t see it,

Two nights later I went over to Tammie’s place on Rustic Court. I knocked. The lights weren’t on. It seemed empty. I looked in her mailbox. There were letters in there. I wrote a note, ...