like it was waiting

it was a hot sweaty day in
August
we were
starving and drinking,
living in a cheap apartment,
always behind in the rent,
there wasn’t much else to do
but screw
and I was working away
half-drunk, half-starved,
pumping
pumping
determined to make it;
I had failed at everything
else,
I was determined to make it
at that,
I groaned and pumped and
flailed
for 5 minutes
then ten minutes, so
near so
near,
it was so damned
ridiculous
and finally
I felt myself nearing
climax,
my labors were about to be
rewarded,
and
at the exact moment
I climaxed
the alarm clock went off,
(for no reason,)
and I rolled off of her
while spurting
and I laughed
I laughed and I laughed,
and she was angry
and asked, “what’s the
matter with you?”
I couldn’t answer
I kept laughing
and she ran to the bathroom
and slammed the
door and I wiped off on
the sheet
as the clock sat there
innocently reading
2:30 p.m.

Author
Charles Bukowski
Written
1983
Source
Original manuscript