hands

I’m not even drinking
and I look down at my
hands and they look
large.
unfortunately for me
I’ve always had
small hands.

the hands are the
tools
for fist fights,
in gripping an
ax,
in strangling
and
related
exercises
I have always been
disadvantaged.

but now
my hands look
large.
I look down at
them
and they grow
larger.

they keep growing
it’s
marvelous.

now I can
beat hell out of
some guy.

I decide to go
downstairs and
show my wife
my new
hands.

“look!” I’ll say,
“look!”

and I’ll hold
out my
hands.

and she’ll say,
“what?
what is it?”

I decide not to
go downstairs.

I just sit here
and look at
my hands.

it is one of my
better
evenings.

yesterday I was
very
depressed.

Author
Charles Bukowski
Written
1991
Source
Original manuscript