Long day at the track. Drank a bottle of wine, lucked onto some poems. I'm 70 now. What a fucking farce. Death is no matter. I am ready for that fucker. Just about swept the card on Labor Day. Won $497.80. Went out today and won $44. It's not the money. The money is the indicattor.
Now we've got this checkmate war. But I still listen to Mozart. 4 walls and a good night's sleep beats getting sucked-off by any starlet.
--Charles Bukowski
September 4, 1990
Excerpt from a letter to playwright Paul Peditto
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The days run away like wild horses over the hills.
-Charles Bukowski
That they do, tots. That they do.
And it's one of his best collections of poetry, imho.
I can't believe it! A bunch of Bukowski readers in the racing world! I always wondered what Bukowski's connection to the horse was, given that book title. It makes sense that the track metaphor would not be lost on him either.
Como se va a llamar Paul Peditto el cabrón... No manches... Ese está más pedo que Hank...
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