Hello, Willie Shoemaker

the Chinaman said don’t take the hardware

and gave me a steak I couldn’t cut (except the fat)

and there was an ant circling the coffee cup;

I left a dime tip and broke out a stick of cancer,

and outside I gave an old bum who looked about

the way I felt, I gave him a quarter,

and then I went up to see the old man

strong as steel girders, fit for bombers and blondes,

up the green rotten steps that housed rats

and past the secretaries showing leg and doing nothing

and the old man sat there looking at me

through two pairs of glasses and a vacation in Paris,

and he said, Kid, I hear you been takin’ Marylou out,

and I said, just to dinner, boss,

and he said, just to dinner, eh? you couldn’t hold

that broad’s pants on with all the rivets on 5th street,

and please remember you are a shipping clerk,

I am the boss here and I pay these broads and I pay you.

yes, sir, I said, and I felt he was going to skip it

but he slid my last check across the desk

and I took it and walked out

past

all the lovely legs, the skirts pulled up to the ass,

Marylou’s ass, Ann’s ass, Vicki’s ass, all of them,

and I went down to the bar

and George said whatya gonna do now,

and I said go to Russia or Hollywood Park,

and I looked up in time to see Marylou come in,

the long thin nose, the delicate face, the lips, the legs,

the breasts, the music, the talk the love the laughing

and she said

I quit when I found out

and the bastard got down on his knees and cried

and kissed the hem of my skirt and offered me money

and I

walked out

and he blubbered like a baby.

George, I said, another drink, and I put a quarter in

the juke

and the sun came out

and I looked outside in time to see the old bum

with my quarter

and a little more luck

that had turned into a happy wine-bottle,

and a bird even flew by cheep cheep,

right there on Eastside downtown, no kidding,

and the Chinaman came in for a quickie

claiming somebody had stolen a spoon and a coffee cup

and I leaned over and bit Marylou on the ear

and the whole joint rocked with music and freedom

and I decided that Russia was too far away

and Hollywood Park just close enough.

Copyright Credit: "Hello, Willie Shoemaker" from The Roominghouse Madrigals: Early Selected Poems 1946-1966 by Charles Bukowski. Copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1965, 1968, 1988 by Charles Bukowski. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers.

Source: The Roominghouse Madrigals: Early Selected Poems 1946-1966 (Black Cat Press, 1988)