everybody on the team hated him.
he had perfect features
the perfect body.
he never joked in the locker room.
he just kept hitting that baseball
leading in batting average
homers, ribbies, doubles, triples
and total bases.
and he got tv commercials
and the girls
and he just kept on hitting that
baseball anyhow.
he made MVP his second season in
baseball but
even the manager disliked something
about him
and the next season he dropped him
from the clean-up spot to the
number 5 hole.
he got off slowly
and the whole league was delighted
but in the second half of the season
he came on again
and led the team in everything but
stolen bases.
even his life divorced him
because of the girls
but it meant a pennant for the team
the playoffs and possibly the world’s

he was the
all-American boy
walking out of the shower room
looking clean and bland and wholesome.

someday he’d suffer
someday they’d have his balls.
someday he’d have to become

nobody could keep on getting away
with his

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