Angels, We Have Grown Apart.

I Am This Fiery Snail Crawling Home.

I Used To Lay Drunk In Alleys And I Probably Will Again.bukowski, Who Is He? I Read About Bukowski And It Doesn't Seem Like Anything To Do With Me.

There's No Way I Can Stop Writing, It's A Form Of Insanity.

The Writing's Easy, It's The Living That Is Sometimes Difficult.

When I Get Down To My Last Dime I'll Just Walk Over To Skid Row." "there Are Some Real Weirdos Down There." "they're Everywhere.