Come On In!. Charles Bukowski. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Charles Bukowski
Издательство: Ingram
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Языкознание
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781847676733
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bring me a

      drink.

       Coronado Street: 1954

      listen, I been in the navy and I never heard cussing like you and

      your girlfriend, man, and it lasts all night, every night.

      we got religious people here, children, decent working folk, you’re

      keeping them awake every night and look at this place! everything’s

      broken, when I evict you you’ve got to pay to replace everything, buddy!

      what do you mean, you don’t have no fucking money?

      what do you buy all that booze with?

      credit?

      don’t give me that!

      listen, I want it so quiet in here tonight we’ll be able to hear the

      church mice pray!

      what’s that?

      well, up yours too, buddy!

      and you wanna know what?

      I saw your old lady sucking some guy’s banana in the alley!

      you don’t give a damn?

      what do you give a damn about?

      nothing?

      what kind of shit is that, nothing!

      did you get a lobotomy somewhere along the way?

      I got a good mind to wipe up the floor with you!

      you say I’m the one with a lobotomy?

      hey, don’t go closing the door on me, pal!

      I own this fucking place!

      OPEN UP, BUDDY! I’M COMING IN!

      WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LAUGHING AT?

      HEY, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LAUGHING AT?

       a vision

      we are in the clubhouse

      3rd race, 83 degrees in June,

      they have just sent in a 40-to-1 shot

      in a maiden race,

      the tote has clicked 3 or 4 times,

      the old general feeling of futility

      has arrived early

      and then a girl walks by

      to the window to make a bet

      her skirt is slit

      almost to the waist

      and as she walks

      this

      most beautiful leg

      is exposed

      it sneaks out as she walks

      flashes and vanishes.

      every male in the clubhouse

      watches that leg.

      the girl is with a woman

      who looks like her mother

      and her mother keeps close

      to the side of the skirt

      that is slit,

      trying to block our view.

      the girl makes her bet

      turns and now the leg is on

      the other side

      along with her mother.

      the girl disappears down an

      aisle to her seat

      as all around us

      there is a rising,

      silent applause.

      then the applause stops

      and like forsaken children

      we go back to our

      Racing Forms.

       cut-rate drugstore: 4:30 p.m.

      this woman at the counter ahead of me

      was buying four pairs of panties:

      yellow, pink, blue and orange.

      the lady at the register kept picking up

      the panties and

      counting them:

      one, two, three, four.

      then she counted them again:

      one, two, three, four.

      will there be anything else?

      she asked the lady who was buying the

      panties.

      no, that’s it, she answered.

      no cigarettes or anything?

      no, that’s it.

      the woman at the register

      rang up the sale

      collected the money

      gave change

      looked off into the distance

      for a bit

      and then she bent under the counter

      and got a bag

      and put the panties in this bag

      one at a time—

      first the blue pair, then the yellow,

      then the orange, then the pink.

      she looked at me next:

      how are you doing today?

      fair, I said.

      is there anything else?

      cigarettes?

      all I want is what you see in front of

      you.

      I had hemorrhoid ointment

      laxatives

      and a box of paper clips.

      she rang it up, took my money, made

      change, bagged my things, handed them

      to me.

      have a nice day, she did not say.

      and you too,

      I said.

       you can’t tell a turkey by its feathers

      son, my father said, if you only had some

      ambition! you have no

      get up and go! no

      drive!

      it’s hard for me to believe that you are really

      my son.

      yeah, I

      said.

      I mean, he went on, how are you going to

      make it?

      your mother is worried sick and the neighbors

      think you’re some kind of

      imbecile.

      what are you going to

      do?