Charles Bukowski: hanging there on the wall

I used to look across the room
and think,
this female will surely do me
in
and it's not worth
it.

but I'd do nothing about it
and I wasn't
lonely.
it was more like a space to
fill in with something;
like on a canvas,
you can keep painting something on it
even if it isn't very
good.

"what are you thinking
about, you bastard?" she would
say.

"painting."

"painting? you nuts?
pour me a drink!"

and I would, and then I'd brush her
in, drink in hand, sitting
in a chair, legs crossed, kicking
her high-heeled shoes.
I'd brush her in, bad tempered,
spoiled, loud.

a painting nobody would ever
see
except me.

Charles Bukowski: hanging there on the wall 2014-06-30T17:26:00-07:00 Rating: 4.5 Diposkan Oleh: sajiku68