after his ‘women’

but what do you make of women like that
they were young and seemed to know
what they were doing
at least for a little while
they kept coming

and he was older and ugly
writing about his own philandering
the practice of faithless love

sometimes it seems the more you confess
the more sin you get to keep

even when he knew he was bad
he kept on going
even when they knew he was bad
they kept coming
la la
la
bukowski
it’s good to meet you
I’ve bean hearing about you now
for years
think I like the way you mark your paper
how you hold your spirits
the way you just keep traveling
serendipitously
on the streets

and if you’re lonely
working
or sleeping
if you’re wondering what the hell to do
she’s on the phone
she’s in your doorway
she’s yelling things from the middle of the road
screaming out she loves you
really hates you
really wants you in her bed
she wants to own the words you say
to have them written in a one-to-one
that’s hers to keep
but

they’re already out there
flying through the air
if I put my hand up now
I’ll catch them here
halfway right around the world
twenty five years later

oh well

are they still chasing you
charlie b

wherever in hell you are
keep your head down
your paper straight
and keep on pinning them
right onto the page

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© Frank Prem, 2008

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Charles Bukowski novel – Women  (1978)

28/12/17