
Back to the machine gun Charles Bukowski
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I awaken about noon and go out to get the mail
In my old torn bathrobe
I'm hung over
Hair down in my eyes
Barefoot
Gingerly walking on the
Small sharp rocks
In my path
Still afraid of pain behind my four-day
Beard
The young housewife next door shakes a rug
Out of her window and sees me:
"hello, Hank!"
God damn! it's almost like being shot in the ass
With a .22
"hello," I say
Gathering up my Visa card bill, my Pennysaver coupons
A Dept. of Water and Power past-due notice
A letter from the mortgage people
Plus a demand from the Weed Abatement Department
Giving me 30 days to clean up my act
In my old torn bathrobe
I'm hung over
Hair down in my eyes
Barefoot
Gingerly walking on the
Small sharp rocks
In my path
Still afraid of pain behind my four-day
Beard
The young housewife next door shakes a rug
Out of her window and sees me:
"hello, Hank!"
God damn! it's almost like being shot in the ass
With a .22
"hello," I say
Gathering up my Visa card bill, my Pennysaver coupons
A Dept. of Water and Power past-due notice
A letter from the mortgage people
Plus a demand from the Weed Abatement Department
Giving me 30 days to clean up my act
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