#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell
Dee Dee had a place in the Hollywood Hills. Dee Dee shared the place with a friend, another lady executive, Bianca. Bianca took the top floor and Dee Dee the bottom. I rang the bell. It...
it was on the 2nd floor on Coronad… I used to get drunk and throw the radio through the wi… while it was playing, and, of cour… it would break the glass in the wi…
he came to the door one night wet… terrorized white cross-eyed tailless cat took him in and fed him and he sta… grew to trust me until a friend dr…
he talks like he writes and he has a face like a dove, unt… externals. little shiver of horror runs throu… about
Tammie came by that night. She appeared to be high on uppers. “I want some champagne,” she said. Then the phone rang. It was Lydia. “I just wondered how you were doing. ...” “You know D...
stew at noon, my dear; and look: the ants, the sawdust, the mica plants, the shadows of banks like bad jokes; do you think we’ll hear
this time has finished me. I feel like the German troops whipped by snow and the communists walking bent with newspapers stuffed into
know. I know. they are limited, have different needs and concerns. but I watch and learn from them.
the pleasures of the damned are limited to brief moments of happiness: like the eyes in the look of a dog… like a square of wax,
I get many phonecalls now. They are all alike. “are you Charles Bukowski, the writer?” “yes,” I tell them.
nobody goes downtown anymore the plants and trees have been cut… Pershing Square the grass is brown and the street preachers are not a…
the boys come up the boys climb up the brown pole as the waterheater gurgles in Spanish
Meanwhile, there was still Joyce, and her geraniums, and a couple of million if I could hang on. Joyce and the flies and the geraniums. I worked the night shift, 12 hours, and she pawed...
when you’re young a pair of female high-heeled shoes just sitting
it beats love because there aren’t… wounds: in the morning she turns on the radio, Brahms or… or Stravinsky or Mozart. she boil… eggs counting the seconds out loud…