cancerous55239

compassion (Bukowski)

she comes in and tells me that she just saw a dog
run over, only the wheels didn't crush him, the car
passed over him and he ran off dazed and limping,
no dog collar, very thin, starved.
she says we ought to go find him and i say she ought
to call the dog pound
and she says that they will only kill him later
if she does.

that evening we go to dinner and as we are driving back
we pass a station wagon with some boys in the back and she says,
"did you see that?" there was a little
boy tied up and screaming in the back
of that car!"
I laugh and she asks, "what are you laughing at?"
"it's only kids playing," I say, "cowboys and Indians, Batman or whatever they're into now. used to happen to me often, they always tied me up."
"please drive back," she says, "let's make sure nothing is wrong!"
I laugh again.

we stop for a traffic light and I notice that the paint
on the hood is looking dull--I'm going to have to get a wax job soon.
whe stares straight ahead and doesn't speak.
as the light turns green
I turn up the music on the radio real
loud.