Come On In!. Charles Bukowski

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СКАЧАТЬ girls hissed

      I dreamt

      the old couple next door

      men without women

      the “Beats”

      hurry slowly

      hello and goodbye

       I will never have

       a house in the valley

       with little stone men

       on the lawn.

      don’t call me, I’ll call you

      taking the 8 count

      going going gone

      this is where they come for what’s left of your soul

      hot night

      the x-bum

      something cares

      my cats

      6:30 a.m.

      what I need

      gender benders

      after many nights

      good morning, how are you?

      a reader of my work

      Sumatra Cum Laude

      the disease of existence

      another comeback

      two nights before my 72nd birthday

      have we come to this?

      old poem

      older

      closing time

      no leaders, please

      everything hurts

      husk

      my song

      cancer

      blue

      twilight musings

      mind and heart

COME ON IN! I live near the slaughterhouse and am ill with thriving.

       come on in!

      welcome to my wormy hell.

      the music grinds off-key.

      fish eyes watch from the wall.

      this is where the last happy shot was

      fired.

      the mind snaps closed

      like a mind snapping

      closed.

      we need to discover a new will and a new

      way.

      we’re stuck here now

      listening to the laughter of the

      gods.

      my temples ache with the fact of

      the facts.

      I get up, move about, scratch

      myself.

      I’m a pawn.

      I am a hungry prayer.

      my wormy hell welcomes you.

      hello. hello there. come in, come on in!

      plenty of room here for us all,

      sucker.

      we can only blame ourselves so

      come sit with me in the dark.

      it’s half-past

      nowhere

      everywhere.

       nothing but a scarf

      long ago, oh so long ago, when

      I was trying to write short stories

      and there was one little magazine which printed

      decent stuff

      and the lady editor there usually sent me

      encouraging rejection slips

      so I made a point to

      read her monthly magazine in the public

      library.

      I noticed that she began to feature

      the same writer

      for the lead story each

      month and

      it pissed me off because I thought that I could

      write better than that

      fellow.

      his work was facile and bright but it had no

       edge.

      you could tell that he had never had his nose rubbed into

      life, he had just

      glided over it.

      next thing I knew, this ice-skater-of-a-writer was

      famous.

      he had begun as a copy boy

      on one of the big New York

      magazines

      (how the hell do you get one of those

      jobs?)

      then he began appearing in some of the best

      ladies’ magazines

      and СКАЧАТЬ