the game

the Babe would get drunk and
hold the Rabbit
out the window of the 12th floor
by his ankles
and the Rabbit would say,
“stop it, you son of a bitch!
if I ever get back into this room
I’ll kill you!”
the Babe would laugh
he was the hero
he could hit a homer
about any time
he really wanted to.
the Rabbit played short,
was always hitting around
but the hits he took away
from the other teams
really made him a
.500 batter
in a sense.

and the next day
they’d be down on the field
and doing it all
over again.

there are some people who
just do things very well
without even thinking
about it, and then you have
all the others.

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