Читать книгу Come On In! - Charles Bukowski - Страница 31

the night the poets dropped by to say

hello

was at the time

that terrible time when

the ladies on the telephone

were screaming their fury

at me.

the night the poets came by to say

hello

I offered them cigarettes

as they talked about the

poet

who traveled all the way to Paris

in order to be able

to select the contents

of his next book

and we smiled at that

the poets and I

as we remembered starvation

dark mornings

deadly noons

evenings of elephantine

misery.

the night the poets came by to say

hello

we also mused about whatever happened to

Barney Google with the googly

eyes: he probably died for the love of

a strumpet as many good men

have