Charles Bukowski
Charles Bukowski
Henry Charles Bukowskiwas an American poet, novelist, and short story writer...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth16 August 1920
CityAndernach, Germany
CountryUnited States of America
running mother orange
Daddy,' my mother asked, 'aren’t we going to run out of gas?' No there’s plenty of god-damned gas.' Where are we going?' I’m going to get some god-damed oranges!
art men class
A woman must be nursed into subsistence by love, where a man can become stronger by being hated." - from 'Cows in Art Class
quitting left
The wisdom to quit is all we have left.
love-is prejudice form
Love is a form of prejudice. I have too many other prejudices.
gun hands goes-on
You don't go on "probably" when love and guns are in hand.
grapes
It's just that the grape has me down.
flower trying benches
The park grass looked greener, the park benches looked better and the flowers were trying harder.
dirty argument laundry
Of course, there would always be arguments. That is the nature of Woman. They like the mutual exchange of dirty laundry, a bit of screaming, a bit of dramatics. Then an exchange of vows.
drinking thinking alcohol
I think I need a drink.' 'Almost everybody does only they don't know it.
real lying men
But then if you lied to a man about his talent just because he was sitting across from you, that was the most unforgivable lie of them all, because that was telling him to go on, to continue which was the worst way for a man without real talent to waste his life, finally. But many people did just that, friends and relatives mostly.
bathroom faster
Love dries up, I thought as I walked back to the bathroom, even faster than sperm.
reading people dry
As a recluse I couldn't bear traffic. It had nothing to do with jealousy, I simply disliked people, crowds, anywhere, except at my readings. People diminished me, they sucked me dry.
animal interesting people
People just weren't interesting. Maybe they weren't supposed to be. But animals, birds, even insects were. I couldn't understand it.
jobs men doctors
The street to my left was backed up with traffic and I watched the people waiting patiently in the cars. There was almost always a man and a women, staring straight ahead, not talking. It was, finally, for everyone, a matter of waiting. You waited and you waited- for the hospital, the doctor, the plumber, the madhouse, the jail, papa death himself. First the signal red, then the signal was green. The citizens of the world ate food and watched t.v. and worried about their jobs or lack of the same, while they waited.