Charles Bukowski

Trashcan Lives

the wind blows hard tonight and it's a cold wind and I think about the boys on the row. I hope some of them have a bottle of red. it's when you're on the row that you notice that everything is owned and that there are locks on everything. this is the way a democracy works: you get what you can, try to keep that and add to it if possible. this is the way a dictatorship works too only they either enslave or destroy their derelicts. we just forgot ours. in either case it's a hard cold wind.

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