fyrestarter

59 cents a pound
by
Charles Bukowski

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i like to prowl ordinary places
and taste the people-
from a distance.
i don't want them too near
because that's when attrition
starts.
but in supermarkets
laundromats
bus stops
eating places
drug stores
i can look at their faces
and their clothing-
watch the way they walk
or stand
or what they are doing.
i'm like an x-ray machine
i like them like that:
on view.
i imagine the best things
about them.
i imagine them brave and crazy
i imagine them beautiful.

i like to prowl the ordinary places.
i feel sorry for us all or glad for us
all
caught alive together
and awkward in that way.

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