sick with the flu drinking beer my radio on loud enough to overcome the sounds of the

once starving in Philadelphia I had a small room it was evening going into night and I stood at my window on the 3r…

I think of automobiles parked in a parking lot when I think of myself dead I think of frying pans when I think of myself dead

Christmas eve, alone, in a motel room down the coast near the Pacific— hear it?

terror finally becomes almost bearable but never quite terror creeps like a cat crawls like a cat

think of the beds used again and again to fuck in to die in. in this land

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

there are many single women in the… with one or two or three children and one wonders where the husbands have gone or where the lovers have gone

I keep thinking it will be outside now waiting for me blue front bumper twisted

if I suffer at this typewriter think how I’d feel among the lettuce-pickers of Salinas?

and the subnormal. all through grammar school junior high high school junior college

in junior high school Big Max was a problem. we’d be sitting during lunch hour eating our peanut butter sandwiche… and potato chips.

in the winter walking on my ceiling my eyes the size of street… I have 4 feet like a mouse but wash my own underwear—bearded and hungover and a hard-on and no lawy…

call it love stand it up in the failing light put it in a dress pray sing beg cry laugh

I’m soft. I dream too. I let myself dream. I dream of being famous. I dream of walking the streets of London and

beheaded in the middle of the night scratching my sides I am covered with bites kick my white legs out of the shee…

the Mexican dancer shook her fans… me and her ass at me, I didn’t ask her to and my woman got mad and ran out of th… it began raining and you could hea…

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 suppose it’s raining in some Sp… while I’m feeling bad like this; I’d like to think so now.

here I’ll be 55 in a week. what will I write about

I’m out of matches. the springs in my couch are broken. they stole my footlocker. they stole my oil painting of

dogs and angels are not very different. I often go to this place to eat about 2:30 in the afternoon

the blazing shark wants my balls as I walk through the meat section looking for salami and cheese purple housewives

what you see is what you see: madhouses are rarely on display. that we still walk about and scratch ourselves and light

I’m glad when they arrive and I’m glad when they leave I’m glad when I hear their heels approaching my door and I’m glad when those heels

red hair real she whirled it and she asked “is my ass still on?”

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

light brown stare that dumb blank marvelous light brown stare I’ll take care of it.