a radio with guts / a tv, a lamp; shoes and socks
– A Radio With Guts, Charles Bukowski.
taking out the trash in san pedro.
PURCHASE PLAY THE PIANO DRUNK (BLACK SPARROW PRESS) While I think a radio with guts deserving of a purple heart, or even a pirate iPod which skips and dies, I could not dream of walking it to the window. Living a kind of life here on the 22nd floor.
Even when drunk in charge of a reception.
Have you seen the price of glass lately ? And who would pay the cost of burying a passerby, anyway ?
The drunk downstairs threw his tv through the glass one night. Followed by the table, a lamp, his shoes and socks.
They were all still there below by morning. A tidy jumble embedded in the courtyard.
Except for the socks. One hanging on a tree growing plastic bags, the other on the fence.
I wanted to slit his belly. That homicidal imbecile.
Those old farts in their sunlit skid row apartments, their bungalows, listening to the sirens playing under or over the radio, and partaking of beer after beer, really had it Made.