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if I suffer at this
typewriter
think how I’d feel
among the lettuce-pickers
of Salinas?
 
I think of the men
I’ve known in
factories
with no way to
get out—
choking while living
choking while laughing
at Bob Hope or Lucille
Ball while
2 or 3 children beat
tennis balls against
the walls.
 
some suicides are never
recorded.
Other works by Charles Bukowski...



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