the veryest, par Charles Bukowski

Charles Bukowski

the veryest

here comes the fishhead singing

here comes the baked potato in drag

here comes nothing to do all day long

here comes another night of no sleep

here comes the phone ringing the wrong voice

here comes a termite with a banjo

here comes a flagpole with blank eyes

here comes a cat and a dog wearing nylons

here comes a machine gun singing

here comes bacon burning in the pan

here comes a voice saying something dull with authority

here comes a newspaper stuffed with small red birds

with flat brown beaks

here comes a woman carrying a torch

grenade

deathly love

here comes victory carrying one bucket of guts

and one bucket of blood

while stumbling over the berry bush

and here comes a little lamb

and here comes Mary at last

and the sheet hangs out the window

and the bombers head east west north south

get lost

get tossed like salad

all the fish in the sea line up and form

one line

one long line

one very long long line

the veryest longest line you could ever imagine

and we get lost

walking past purple mountains.

we walk lost

bare at last like the knife blade

or the electric shock

having given

having spit it out like an unexpected olive seed

as the girl at the call ser vice

screams over the phone:

don’t call back! you sound like a jerk!”

#1993 #AmericanWriters #ThePleasuresOfTheDamned

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Charles Bukowski

the veryest

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