Charles Bukowski

my friend William

my friend William is a fortunate man:
he lacks the imagination to suffer
 
he kept his first job
his first wife
 
can drive a car 50,000 miles
without a brake job
 
he dances like a swan
and has the prettiest blankest eyes
this side of El Paso
 
his garden is a paradise
the heels of his shoes are always level
and his handshake is firm
 
people love him
 
when my friend William dies
will hardly be from madness or cancer
 
he’ll walk right past the de vil
and into heaven
 
you’ll see him at the party to night
grinning
over his martini
 
blissful and delightful
as some guy
fucks his wife in the
bathroom.
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