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I’m glad when they arrive
and I’m glad when they leave
 
I’m glad when I hear their heels
approaching my door
and I’m glad when those heels
walk away
 
I’m glad to fuck
I’m glad to care
and I’m glad when it’s over
 
and
since it’s always either
starting or finishing
I’m glad
most of the time
 
and the cats walk up and down
and the earth spins around the sun
and the phone rings:
 
“this is Scarlet.”
 
“who?”
 
“Scarlet.”
 
“o.k., get it on over.”
 
and I hang up thinking
maybe this is it
 
go in
take a quick shit
shave
bathe
 
dress
 
dump the sacks
and cartons of empty
bottles
 
sit down to the sound of
heels approaching
more an army approaching than
victory
 
it’s Scarlet
and in my kitchen the faucet
keeps dripping
needs a washer.
 
I’ll take care of it
later.
Other works by Charles Bukowski...



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