Читать книгу The Pleasures of the Damned - Charles Bukowski - Страница 51

trashcan lives

the wind blows hard tonight

and it’s a cold wind

and I think about

the boys on the row.

I hope some of them have a bottle

of red.

it’s when you’re on the row

that you notice that

everything is owned and that there are locks on everything. this is the way a democracy works: you get what you can, try to keep that and add to it if possible.

this is the way a dictatorship

works too

only they either enslave or

destroy their

derelicts.

we just forget

ours.

in either case

it’s a hard

cold

wind.