Social

social


the blue pencil of the wave
shots of yellow road

a steering wheel
an insane woman sitting
next to you

complaining as the ocean
creams-off

and people in yellow and
white
campers
block your way
a frantic
time
as you listen
guilty of this and
guilty of that

you admit
this and that
but it's not
enough

she wants splendid
conquest
and you're weary of
splendid
conquest

getting there
she climbs out
walks towards the
house

you piss across the
fender of your car
drunk on beer

little spots of you
dripping down into
the dust
the dry
dust

zipping up you
march in to
meet her
friends.


Charles Bukowski

Posted over on Zen Bullets