no man is an island

I am at the track
and go up to bet
ten win on the four
horse
somebody hollers,
“HEY!”
I look up.
a teller 3 windows
down is looking
at me and
smiling.
he’s a young fellow
in a white shirt
smiling away.
I walk up to him.
“how the hell you
been doing?” he
asks.
“o.k.,” I say,
“how’s it been
with you?”
“fine,” he says
and reaches out.
we shake hands.
“well,” I tell
him, “stay in
there!”
“you too!” he
grins.

I turn and walk
off, thinking
who was that?

then I see a
young girl with
long legs
she is wearing a
beret.

unusual.
I follow
her.

Like this website? Support it.
I want to bring all of Bukowski's poems online and make then freely available. This means hundreds of hours of work to retype over 1,000 of his poems from the original manuscripts. Your donations will help support this work.