Charles Bukowski

(by the way . . . I realize I switch from present to past tense, and if you don't like it . . . ram a nipple up your scrotum. -printer: leave this in.)

I didn't know if I was unhappy. I felt too miserable to be unhappy.

There is a blue bird in my heart that wants to get out.

I found the best thingI could dowas just to type awayat my own workand let the dyingdieas they always have.

and love is a word usedtoo much andmuchtoo soon.

when Whitman wrote, __ sing the body electric__ know what hemeantI know what hewanted:to be completely alive every momentin spite of the inevitable.we can__ cheat death but we can make itwork so hardthat when it does takeusit will have known a victory just asperfect asours

sometimes it's hard to knowwhat todo.

one doesn't even think ofthe liverand if the liverdoesn't think ofus, that'sfine.

regret is mostly caused by not havingdone anything.

The dead do not needaspirin orsorrow,I suppose.but they might needrain.not shoesbut a place towalk.not cigarettes,they tell us,but a place to burn.or we're told:space and a place to flymight be thesame.the dead don't need me.nor do theliving.but the dead might needeachother.in fact, the dead might needeverything weneedandwe need so muchif we only knewwhat itwas.it isprobablyeverythingand we will allprobably dietrying to getitor diebecause wedon't getit.I hopeyou will understandwhen I am deadI got as muchaspossible.

I didn't know who tobelievebutone thing I doknow: when a man islivingmany claim relationshipsthat are hardlysoand after he dies, well,then it's everybody'sparty.

wesat theresmokingcigarettesat5in the morning.

when I drive the freeways I see the soul of humanity ofmy city and it's ugly, ugly, ugly: the living have choked theheartaway.

beware those quick to praise for they need praise in return beware those who are quick to censor they are afraid of what they do not know beware those who seek constant crowds for they are nothing alone

beware women grownoldwho were neveranything butyoung

I always felt it wouldpass.I listened to the charges against meknowing some of them to be truebut certainly notimportant enoughto become the target ofviolence, envy,vengeance.I thought it would surelypass.

aboutour argument tonightwhatever it wasaboutand no matterhow unhappyit made usfeelremember thatthere is acatsomewhereadjusting to thespace of itselfwith a delightfulwonderment ofeasiness.in other wordsmagic persistswithout usno matter whatwe doagainst it.

the flesh covers the bone and they put a mind in there and sometimes a soul, and the women break vases against the walls and the men drink too much and nobody finds the one but keep looking crawling in and out of beds. flesh covers the bone and the flesh searches for more than flesh.