• a good one •

I get too many
phone calls.
they seek the
creature out.
they shouldn’t.

I never phoned
Salinger
I never phoned
Neruda.

tonight I got
a call:

“hello. you
Charles Bukowski?”

“yes.”

“well, I got a
house.”

“yes?”

“a bordello.”

“I understand.”

“I’ve read your
books. I’ve got a
houseboat in
Sausalito.”

“all right.”

“I want to give you
my phone number. you
ever come to San Francisco
I’ll buy you a drink.”

“o.k. give me the
number.”

I took it down.

“we run a class joint. we’re
after lawyers and state senators,
pimps, the like.”

“I’ll call you when I
get up there.”

“lots of girls
read your books. they
love you.”

“yeah?”
“yeah.”

we said goodbye.

I like that
phone call.

©charles bukowski