Gas Poem by Charles Bukowski


Rating: 2.4

my grandmother had a serious gas
we only saw her on Sunday.
she'd sit down to dinner
and she'd have gas.
she was very heavy,
80 years old.
wore this large glass brooch,
that's what you noticed most
in addition to the gas.
she'd let it go just as food was being served.
she'd let it go in bursts
spaced about a minute apart.
she'd let it go
4 or 5 times
as we reached for the potatoes
poured the gravy
cut into the meat.

nobody ever said anything,
especially me.
I was 6 years old.
only my grandmother spoke.
after 4 or 5 blasts
she would say in an offhand way,
'I'll bury you all!'

I didn't much like that:
first farting
then saying that.

it happened every Sunday.
she was my father's mother.

every Sunday it was death and gas
and mashed potatoes and gravy
and that big glass brooch.

those Sunday dinners would
always end with apple pie and
ice cream
and a big argument
about something or other,
my grandmother finally running out the door
and taking the red train back to
the place stinking for an hour
and my father walking about
fanning a newspaper in the air and
saying, 'it's all that damned sauerkraut
she eats!'

Smoky Hoss 07 September 2018

The second stanza is the depth, the meaning of it all, it's the sight into the gassy cloud that life lived beyond reason becomes obtuse, non-aromatic, so to speak. Read the second stanza as many times as it takes, for it to sink in, like trying to understand where a certain odor takes you to, that hasn't been pondered in ages, rock of ages, ageless and ancient beyond mere knowing, rather understanding.

1 0 Reply
Mark Arvizu 13 August 2015

Better than gas in Pasadena....

0 0 Reply
Shadow Girl 15 June 2011

I liked this shows; a different side to Bukowski - most of his works are so deep and thought provoking whilst this was just downright hilarious and entertaining! SG

1 1 Reply
Veronica Smolysyj 28 April 2010

an enjoyable read. so random!

1 2 Reply
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