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Come on In! - Charles Bukowski [27]

By Root 263 0

the butler stood in front of Fuch and screamed:

fucky-boy! fucky-baby! fuck-face! fuck-brain!

where did your name come from, fuck-head?

how come you’re such a fuck-up?

etc….

they all started laughing uncontrollably

as the butler delivered his tirade in that

beautiful British accent.

they couldn’t stop laughing, they fell out of their

chairs and got down on the rug, pounding it and

laughing, Fuch, his lovely young wife and Raymond

in that sprawling mansion overlooking the shining sea.

I dreamt

that I was

in my room

having been

shot in the belly

by some tart.

snakes crawled the

floor

while outside

a schoolmaster

sang

an old school

song

then

the curtains

went up in

flame

the phone

rang

everything

seemed

in a hurry

to die

so I

decided to

die

which made all the

bad poets

happy

and all the good poets

glad

as they

rushed in

to fill

the vacancy

then the dream

was

over

I awakened

and I was

the Bad Boy

of poetry

all over

again.

the old couple next door

they were an old couple

and she slept with her

head at one end of the

bed

and he with his head

at the other

end.

they explained that

in case somebody

came in to murder

them

at least one of them

would have a

better chance to

escape.

when he died

she had a stuffed replica

made of his

body

and she slept with

her head at one end

of the bed

and the replica’s

head was down at the

other.

and just like in the

past,

at least once every

night,

she would awaken

in a fury and

scream,

“STOP

THAT

GODDAMNED

SNORING!”

men without women

finally,

goaded by the high price of

female relationships

he lashed his ankles to the

bedpoles

and tried to reach his

own

penis

with his

mouth:

close but no

cigar.

another of

nature’s dirty

tricks.

finally, in a

fury, he gave it a last

mad

attempt.

something cracked in his

back

and a blue flame

engulfed his

brain.

after 45 minutes of

agony

he got himself off

the bed,

found he couldn’t stand

straight.

each time he tried

a hundred knives cut

into both his back and

his soul.

the next day

he managed to drive to

the doctor’s

office

bent low over the

steering wheel

barely able to

see through the

windshield.

“how did you do this?”

the

doctor

asked.

he told the doctor

the honest

truth

because he felt

that an informed

diagnosis

was the only chance

for a complete

cure.

“what?” said the

doctor. “you’re

kidding?”

“no, that’s what

happened.”

“please excuse me,

I’ll be right

back.”

there was a dead

silence.

then he heard the

soft laughter of

the doctor and the

nurse from

behind the door.

then it grew

louder.

he sat there

looking out the office

window: there was a park outside

with lovely mature trees, it was

a fine summer afternoon

the birds were out in force and

for some odd reason

he longed for a shimmering bowl

of cool wet grapes.

the laughter behind the door

grew softer again

and then died out

as he sat there

waiting.

the “Beats”

some keep trying to connect me with

the “Beats”

but I was almost unpublished in the

1950s

and

even then

I very much

distrusted their vanity and

all that

public

posturing.

and when I met a few of them

later in life

I realized that most of my original

feelings for

them

hadn’t

changed.

some of my friends accepted

that; others thought that I

should change my

opinion.

my opinion remains the

same: writing is done

one person

at a time

one place

at a time

and all the gatherings

of

the

flock

have very little

to do

with

anything.

any one of them

could have made

a decent living as a

bill collector or a

used car

salesman

and they still

could

make an honest living

instead of bitching about

changes of fashion and

the ways of fate.

but instead

from the sad university

lecterns

and in the poetry halls

these hucksters of the

despoiled word

are still clamoring for

handouts,

still talking the same

dumb

shit.

hurry slowly

when will you take to the cane,

Chinaski?

when will you walk that short-legged

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