Pizza

people who eat pizza
people who put that dough
that melted stale cheese
those tasteless olives
and pepper slices
that pepperoni
into their mouths
that sticky soulless slice
of melted dead waffle into their mouths,
their act is a crime against breathing
against putting your shoes on in the morning
it’s a crime against love and sex and
rythm
it’s a crime against Beethoven
and Alvin Carpis
and the dreams of Mickey Mouse;
it’s a crime against the green flowing
rivers,
people who jam that paff into their mouth
ought to be hung by their balls from the
flagpoles,
or if they be the liberated members of our
species
they ought to be hung by their titties
in an icey wind;
people who eat pizza aren’t people
they’re bugs, they’re flies, they’re worms the fish won’t
eat;
when I walk past pizza parlors
and see   them sitting in there eating
I realize humanity has fucked up two thirds
of their past
and three quarters
of their future.
when we   have a people who are capable of eating
pizza and enjoying it
we have a people without joy, hope, love,
enterprise, mind and imagination.
who ever invented pizza must have also
invented the eater,
and there’s a thought that might make
almost any man
feel like a fatherless
boy.

Author
Charles Bukowski
Written
1974
Source
Original manuscript