Читать книгу On Writing - Charles Bukowski - Страница 8

1946

[To Caresse Crosby]

October 9, 1946

[To Caresse Crosby]

November 1946

I must write you once more to tell you how delighted I was to receive that delicious photo—Rome 1946—and your note. As to the lost manuscripts—damn them—they were no good anyhow—except maybe some violent sketches I made while sponging on my parents in Los Angeles. But such stuff to the birds: I am a poet, et al.

Drink still has me wavering—typewriter gone. Still, ha ha, I hand-print out my stuff in ink. Have managed to get rid of three fair stories and four unsatisfactory poems to Matrix, a rather old-fashioned Philadelphia “little magazine.”

I am really a much too nervous person to hitch hike to Washington to see you. I would break up into all sorts of quatern little pieces. Thanks, really, though. You’ve been very decent, very.

Might send you something soon, but not for awhile. Whatever that means.