Love Is a Dog From Hell_ Poems, 1974-1977 - Charles Bukowski [14]
now move off.”
then I closed the door.
she was back again in 5 minutes:
“Hank, I can’t find my car, I
swear I can’t find my car. help
me find my car!”
I saw my friend Bobby-the-Riff
walking by. “hey, Bobby, help
this one find her car. we’ll
even it up later.”
they went off together.
later Bobby said they found her
car parked on somebody’s front
lawn, lights on and motor
running.
I haven’t heard from Vera
since
unless she’s the one
who keeps phoning at
2 and 3 and 4 a.m. in the
morning
and doesn’t answer when I
say “hello.”
but Bobby says he
can handle her
so I’ve decided to turn her over
to Bobby.
she lives on a side street somewhere
in Glendale
and I help him unfold the
roadmap as we sip our
diet Schlitz.
the worst and the best
in the hospitals and jails
it’s the worst
in madhouses
it’s the worst
in penthouses
it’s the worst
in skid row flophouses
it’s the worst
at poetry readings
at rock concerts
at benefits for the disabled
it’s the worst
at funerals
at weddings
it’s the worst
at parades
at skating rinks
at sexual orgies
it’s the worst
at midnight
at 3 a.m.
at 5:45 p.m.
it’s the worst
falling through the sky
firing squads
that’s the best
thinking of India
looking at popcorn stands
watching the bull get the matador
that’s the best
boxed lightbulbs
an old dog scratching
peanuts in a celluloid bag
that’s the best
spraying roaches
a clean pair of stockings
natural guts defeating natural talent
that’s the best
in front of firing squads
throwing crusts to seagulls
slicing tomatoes
that’s the best
rugs with cigarette burns
cracks in sidewalks
waitresses still sane
that’s the best
my hands dead
my heart dead
silence
adagio of rocks
the world ablaze
that’s the best
for me.
coupons
cigarettes wetted with beer from
the night before
you light one
gag
open the door for air
and on your doorstep
is a dead sparrow
his head and breast
chewed away.
hanging from the doorknob
is an ad from the All American
Burger
consisting of several coupons
which
say
that with the purchase
of a burger
from Feb. 12 thru Feb. 15
you can get a free
regular size bag of french
fries and one
10 oz. cup of coca cola.
I take the ad
wrap the sparrow
carry him to the trash bin
and dump him
in.
look:
forsaking fries and coke
to help keep
my city
clean.
luck
what’s bad about all
this
is watching people
drinking coffee and
waiting. I would
douse them all
with luck. they need
it. they need it
worse than I do.
I sit in cafes
and watch them
waiting. I suppose
there’s not much
else to do. the
flies walk up and
down the windows
and we drink our
coffee and pretend
not to look at
each other. I
wait with them.
between the movement
of the flies
people walk by.
dog
a single dog
walking alone on a hot sidewalk of
summer
appears to have the power
of ten thousand gods.
why is this?
trench warfare
sick with the flu
drinking beer
my radio on loud
enough to overcome
the sounds of the
stereo people who
have just moved
into the court
across the way.
asleep or awake
they play their
set at top volume
leaving their
doors and windows
open.
they are each
18, married, wear
red shoes,
are blonde,
slim.
they play
everything: jazz,
classical, rock,
country, modern
as long as it is
loud.
this is the problem
of being poor:
we must share each
other’s sounds.
last week it was
my turn:
there were two women
in here
fighting each other
and then they
ran up the walk
screaming.
the police came.
now it’s their
turn.
now I am walking
up and down in
my dirty shorts,
two rubber earplugs
stuck deep into
my ears.
I even consider
murder.
such rude little
rabbits!
walking little pieces
of snot!
but in our land
and in our way
there has never
been a chance;
it’s only when
things are not
going too badly
for a while
that we forget.
someday they’ll
each be dead
someday they’ll
each have a
separate coffin
and it will be
quiet.
but right now
it’s Bob Dylan