so, he said, she told me to come over
so I went over to her place
and when I got there
she was ironing
and I sat in the kitchen and watched
her iron and I told her
that I was tired of working overtime
and she said,
‘hell, what else you got to do with your
time?   you might as well make
she was ironing her panties
and she acted mad at her panties
slamming the iron against them.
she was in curlers and
a blue robe,
and then the doorbell rang
and she went to the door
and here was this guy in a baseball cap
and he came   into the kitchen
and stood there
and she began ironing again
and then the guy in the baseball cap
pulled the plug to the iron from the wall
and she screamed at him
‘you son of a bitch, don’t do that!’
and he laughed and said,
‘what’s the matter, baby?   what’s the matter,
I told her, ‘I’m leaving,’
and she said, ‘oh, you needn’t go,’
but I left anyhow.

if they call overtime tonight, he said,
I’m not taking it no matter what they do.

I’m not either, I said.

what’s the matter? he asked, you having trouble
with women too?

no, I said, it’s my god damned

Charles Bukowski
Original manuscript
This poem appeared in the following books: