girls, get back to your reels

the women of the past keep
phoning.
there was another yesterday
in from out of
state.
she wanted to   see
me.
I told her
“no”.

I don’t want to see
them,
I can’t see them.
it would be
awkward
gruesome and
useless.

it’s like
I know some people who can
see the same movie
more than once.

not me.
once I know the
plot
once I know the
ending
whether it’s happy
unhappy or
just dumb,
then
for me
that movie is for
others
who haven’t seen
it.

you know
those movies play
over and over again
for
years.

Author
Charles Bukowski
Written
1983
Source
Original manuscript
This poem appeared in the following books: