Charles Bukowski


he hooked to the body hard took it well and loved to fight had seven in a row and a small fleck over one eye, and then he met a kid from Camden with arms thin as wires- it was a good one, the safe lions roared and threw money; they were both up and down many times, but he lost that one and he lost the rematch in which neither of them fought at all, hanging on to each other like lovers through the boos, and now he's over at Mike's changing tires and oil and batteries, the fleck over the eye still young, but you don't ask him, you don't ask him anything except maybe you think it's going to rain? or you think the sun's gonna come out? to which he'll usually answer hell no, but you'll have your important tank of gas and drive off.

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