Quotes
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I see men assassinated around me every day. I walk through rooms of the dead, streets of the dead, cities of the dead; men without eyes, men without voices; men with manufactured feelings and standard reactions; men with newspaper brains, television souls and high school ideas. Kennedy himself was 9/10ths the way around the clock or he wouldn't have accepted such an enervating and enfeebling job -- meaning President of the United States of America. How can I be concerned with the murder of...
Charles Bukowski
I’ve come by, she says, to tell you
that this is it. I’m not kidding, it’s
over. this is it.
I sit on the couch watching her arrange
her long red hair before my bedroom
mirror.
She pulls her hair up and
piles it on top of her head-
she lets her eyes look at
my eyes-
then she drops her hair and
lets it fall down in front of her face.
We go to bed and I hold her
speechlessly from the back
my arm around her neck
I touch her wrists and her hands
feel up to
her elbows
no further.
Charles Bukowski
there was something aboutthat city, thoughit didn't let me feel guiltythat I had no feeling for thethings so many othersneeded. it let me alone. sitting up in my bedthe lights out, hearing the outsidesounds, lifting my cheapbottle of wine, letting the warmth ofthe grapeentermeas I heard the ratsmoving about theroom, I preferred themtohumans. being lost, being crazy maybeis not so badif you can bethat wayundisturbed. New Orleans gave methat. nobody ever calledmy name.
Charles Bukowski
dear J:
I feel lucky that I didn’t fuck you the first time we met in Houston, but luckier that I didn’t fuck you the last time we met in San Francisco. this is the answer to your letter even though I don’t know if you’ll ever read it. the words are yours but I’ll get credit for the poem. you see, it could never have worked, the way I am.
B.
Charles Bukowski
Pain is strange. A cat killing a bird, a car accident, a fire.... Pain arrives, BANG, and there it is, it sits on you. It's real. And to anybody watching, you look foolish. Like you've suddenly become an idiot. There's no cure for it unless you know somebody who understands how you feel, and knows how to help.
Charles Bukowski
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