Bet Too Early In The 9th And Was Sent Sadly Down The Escalator And Into The Parking Lot

I bet the wrong horse

my girl has thick ankles
my beard turns white

tonight I walked across this
room and ripped a toenail off
my little toe.   a thick mahogany
chairleg did it.

I laughed with the temple-burners
and   the polishers of
lugers.

I bet the wrong horse

the hawk got flushed down the
toilet

the pimp scratched his fleas

the cook dropped in celery and
carrots and potatoes and
a bone for the
cons

I bet the wrong horse

I’d rather be an inner spring
mattress in Jamaica
than to be sitting here tonight
typing fawns into hard
biscuits.

Author
Charles Bukowski
Written
1975
Source
Original manuscript
This poem appeared in the following books: