the x-bum

it was good training out there, although there were times of
fear and madness and ugliness
there were times when it wasn’t very good
there were times when my comrades appeared less than
brave
more toward the subnormal
or resting,
debased.

it taught me also
that there was no bottom to bottom:
you could always fall lower into insanity into
mutilation
into a bestial groveling
nowhere
and when you reached
that
nobody cared or ever
would.
and, of any feeling left, that was the strangest
feeling of
all…..


so, today I got into my BMW and drove down to my
bank and picked up my American Express
Gold Card. (and I always promised myself that I’d
write about this when it
happened.)

I know what it will cause:   “that Chinaski, writing about
his American Express Gold Card!   who gives a damn
about that?  or that he tells us he’s in
WHO’S WHO IN AMERICA!”

I can’t think of another poet who makes people as
angry as I.
I enjoy it
knowing that we are all brothers and sisters
in this very unkind
family
and no   matter
what the circumstance,
the park bench is never very far away
for any of
us.