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“lets split this diner and have a beer”   four coffees in an hour made the world too awake for him   we walked to the Pink Mule, the first bar we saw   he knew all of the bars--all bars knew him   the bartender was Abraham but looked like a Bob     he had a bourbon poured before Charles made it to the stool and looked at me like I was a fool   “a light beer”   Bukowski didn’t bother to laugh though I am sure the word *** was rolling around in his head   looking for a place to get out   he kept on about Selma, sweet succulent Selma   how anybody that hot could rule the world   dragging men around by their dongs   without lifting a finger   that is why the gods made wine, he said   not for some sacrament for the holy humbled but for men hunched over like balless beggars, he said, when Abraham Bob   filled his jigger a second, or fourth time   men made that way by all the Selmas   whose middle name had to be vexation   a whiff of her could get you to take   a **** job, where you spent the day hunched over, hoping, she would be there when you got home   even if she was, you wouldn’t remember   in the morning, when you would go back   to the grinless grind, hunched over, hoping   Selma would be your wine
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Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 1:42 PM UTC
at the Pink Mule (conversations with Charles Bukowski, part III)
“lets split this diner and have a beer”   four coffees in an hour made the world too awake for him   we walked to the Pink Mule, the first bar we saw   he knew all of the bars--all bars knew him   the bartender was Abraham but looked like a Bob     he had a bourbon poured before Charles made it to the stool and looked at me like I was a fool   “a light beer”   Bukowski didn’t bother to laugh though I am sure the word *** was rolling around in his head   looking for a place to get out   he kept on about Selma, sweet succulent Selma   how anybody that hot could rule the world   dragging men around by their dongs   without lifting a finger   that is why the gods made wine, he said   not for some sacrament for the holy humbled but for men hunched over like balless beggars, he said, when Abraham Bob   filled his jigger a second, or fourth time   men made that way by all the Selmas   whose middle name had to be vexation   a whiff of her could get you to take   a **** job, where you spent the day hunched over, hoping, she would be there when you got home   even if she was, you wouldn’t remember   in the morning, when you would go back   to the grinless grind, hunched over, hoping   Selma would be your wine
The "Pink Mule" is the name of a bar, Bulowski's protagonist, Chinaski, visits in the book, "Factotum"
spysgrandson
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American
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 1:42 PM UTC
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