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Charles Bukowski Before Aids

I’m glad I got to them
all, I’m glad I got so many of them
in.

I flipped them
poked them
gored them.

so many high-heeled shoes
under my bed
it looked like a January
Clearance Sale.

the cheap hotel rooms,
the drunken fights,
the phones ringing,
the walls banging

I was
wild
red-eyed
big-balled
unshaven
poor
foul-mouthed
I laughed
plenty

and I picked them off
the barstools
like
ripe plums.

dirty sheets
bad whiskey
bad breath
cheap cigars
and to hell with the next
morning.

Charles-Bukowski-before-AidsI always slept with my
wallet under my
pillow
bedded down with the
depressed and the
crazies.

I was barred from half the
hotels in
Los Angeles.

I’m glad I got to them all,
I plugged and banged and
sang and
some of them
sang with me
on those glorious
3 a.m. mornings.
when the cops
arrived, that was
grand,
we barricaded the doors
and taunted
them
and they never waited around
until noon
(checking-out time) to
arrest us,
we weren’t that
important

but
I thought we were
walking toward the bar,
and what a place the bar was
around noon, so quiet and
empty,
a place to begin
again,
to buck up with a quiet
beer,
looking out across at the
park
with the ducks over there
and the tall trees
over there.

so,
always broke but always
money from somewhere,
I waited
getting ready to
plug and bang and poke
and sing again
in those good old times
in those very very very
good old times
before Aids.

 

HERE the Italian version

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