Primal Scream

he used to write a good poem but he had his troubles
with them and he wrote me and asked me where he could
get rid of them and I suggested where he might and he
got rid of some of them
but, of course, it didn’t get the rent, and nobody
wanted to print a book of his poems and he asked me,
“What do I do?”   Nobody wants to print a book of my
and I told him, “Do nothing.   When they get hungry
enough for you they’ll find you.”

time   passed.   he vanished.

then one day he was in town and wanted to get drunk
with me.   I had to tell him no because I was then in a
mortal fight with a woman for my life and my soul and
she seemed to be winning.

he vanished again.   I forgot him.   months passed. then
I got a long letter.

he’d been through the PRIMAL SCREAM.   he was
o.k. now.

enclosed was a comic book.   he was editor of the
comic book.   it was
hot.   big asses and dicks.

I wrote back and said,
great, I’ll do you a comic

fine, He wrote back, send it

25 bucks a strip, I
wrote back.

he never answered. he vanished

he told me it cost 6 grant.
really works.

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