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User Rating:
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6.7
/10
(75 votes)
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having the low down blues and going
into a restraunt to eat.
you sit at a table.
the waitress smiles at you.
she's dumpy. her ass is too big.
she radiates kindess and symphaty.
live with her 3 months and a man would no real agony.
o.k., you'll tip her 15 percent.
you order a turkey sandwich and a
beer.
the man at the table across from you
has watery blue eyes and
a head like an elephant.
at a table further down are 3 men
with very tiny heads
and long necks
like ostiches.
they talk loudly of land development.
why, you think, did I ever come
in here when I have the low-down
blues?
then the the waitress comes back eith the sandwich
and she asks you if there will be anything
else?
snd you tell her, no no, this will be
fine.
then somebody behind you laughs.
it's a cork laugh filled with sand and
broken glass.
you begin eating the sandwhich.
it's something.
it's a minor, difficult,
sensible action
like composing a popular song
to make a 14-year old
weep.
you order another beer.
jesus,look at that guy
his hands hang down almost to his knees and he's
whistling.
well, time to get out.
pivk up the bill.
tip.
go to the register.
pay.
pick up a toothpick.
go out the door.
your car is still there.
and there are 3 men with heads
and necks
like ostriches all getting into one
car.
they each have a toothpick and now
they are talking about women.
they drive away first
they drive away fast.
they're best i guess.
it's an unberably hot day.
there's a first-stage smog alert.
all the birds and plants are dead
or dying.
you start the engine.
Anonymous submission.
Charles Bukowski
| Submitted Date |
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Monday, January 13, 2003 |
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Read poems about / on: car, women, song, woman, smile
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Comments about this poem (Another Day
by
Charles Bukowski
) |
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Jonny Brackney (12/13/2011 9:38:00 AM)
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The typos kind of make sense...seeing as Bukowski was usually wasted when he wrote.
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Krista Churchill (11/2/2008 7:00:00 PM)
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Very interesting i like it very different well written
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Janri Gogeshvili (4/27/2008 11:06:00 AM)
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As if tells for itself, it is smooth also insinuating passion and it seems to the reader that itself too sits this bar, and observes...
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Walter Durk (9/17/2007 7:11:00 PM)
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A very interesting poem, incredibly well-written for its type. It would be nice if an accurate form without the typos could be posted here.
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Blake Washington (11/30/2006 9:40:00 AM)
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no simpler way to ruin a good poem than typos.
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Read all
6
comments >>
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