now here see me

playing with words as the mind fries and
burns like an egg left unattended in the
pan
my cat crawls into a large paper bag
turns about
within it and
looks out at me

my woman is out tonight doing some
social thing

I used to mind
I no longer mind

if she can find enjoyment
out there
I would say that
the world is better for
her
and
with her.

the radio music is not very good
tonight
as I play with these words
as the brain
says:

I am now
looking at
a red package of

50 white
envelopes

what happened to those nights, man,
when you used to smash up the corner
bar?

oh shut up, answers the typewriter (now)
I don’t feel at all like examining the
past, the present or the
future.

o.k., says the brain, I’m going to
strike too

as my cat crawls out of the
paper bag
it’s

a fairly slow night.

Author
Charles Bukowski
Written
1982
Source
Original manuscript
This poem appeared in the following books: