nice and brown

the lady from Germany comes to see us
with her husband and we get them very
drunk and the next day she is very
sick but they go to the beach and lay
in the sun.
“my, how nice and brown you are,”
I tell them.
there’s not much sun where they live,
they have to travel to the Baltic Sea
to get the sun.
the sun here is usually always there
after the morning fog lifts.

today my girlfriend told me that while
I was at the racetrack the lady from
Germany had phoned and the lady from
Germany said that her lips were all
puffed-up from the sun, they stuck out,
wouldn’t go down, very terrible
really.
she went to a doctor who gave her a
shot of therazine and a shot of
penicillin.

“by the way,” I told my girlfriend,
“I won $173 at the track today.”

she said, “instead of coming at 8:30
tonight they thought they might come a
bit early.   we might barbecue something
outside.   they want to spend another
afternoon at the beach.”

“what’ll we barbecue?” I asked.

“well, she likes red meat,” she said.

each reader will now supply
his or her
punch line
in the following space:

Author
Charles Bukowski
Written
1979
Source
Original manuscript
This poem appeared in the following books: