Read Online Hot Water Music by Charles Bukowski - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Charles Bukowski
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dogs, babies, chickens, fish…”
“I like to choose. I have to care.”
“That’s so damned corny. The caring is already built-in. Then if you cultivate the caring long enough the next thing you know you think it’s love.”
“O.K., what’s wrong with love, Tony?”
“Love is a form of prejudice. You love what you need, you love what makes you feel good, you love what is convenient. How can you say you love one person when there are ten thousand people in the world that you would love more if you ever met them? But you’ll never meet them.”
“All right, so we do the best we can.”
“Granted. But we must still realize that love is just the resultof a chance encounter. Most people make too much of it. On these grounds a good fuck is not to be entirely scorned.”
“But that’s the result of a chance meeting too.”
“You’re damned right. Drink up. We’ll have another.”
“You’ve got a good line, Tony, but it’s not going to work.”
“Well,” said Tony, nodding the bartender over, “I’m not going to grieve about that either…”
It was a Saturday evening and they went back to Tony’s place and turned on the tv. There wasn’t a hell of a lot on. They drank some Tuborg and talked over the sound of the set.
“You ever heard the one,” asked Tony, “about horses being too smart to bet on people?”
“No.”
“Well, anyhow, it’s a saying. You’re not going to believe this but I had a dream the other night. I was down in the stables and a horse came to get me and give me a workout. There was a monkey with his arms and legs around my neck and he smelled of cheap wine. It was 6 a.m. and the cold wind blew in from the San Gabriel mountains. What’s more it was foggy. They worked me three furlongs in 52, handily. Then they hot-walked me for 30 minutes and walked me back to the barn. A horse came in and gave me two hardboiled eggs, grapefruit, toast and milk. Then I was in a race. The stands were packed with horses. It looked like a Saturday. I was in the fifth race. I came in first and paid $32.40. That was some dream, wasn’t it?”
“I’ll say,” said Meg. She crossed her legs. She had on a miniskirt but no pantyhose. Her boots covered the calves of her legs. Her thighs were bare, and full. “That was some dream.” She was 30. Lipstick ever so faintly glistened on her lips. Brunette, very dark, long hair. No powder, no perfume. Never fingerprinted. Born in the northern part of Maine. One hundred twenty pounds.
Tony got up and got two more bottles of beer. When he came back Meg said: “A strange dream, but many of them are. It’s when strange things happen in life, it makes you wonder…”
“Like?”
“Like my brother Damion. He was always poking into books…mysticism, yoga, all that shit. Come into a room he’d be as apt to be standing on his head in his jockey shorts as anything else.He even managed a couple of trips east…India, somewhere else. Came back hollow-cheeked and half-crazy, weighing about 76 pounds. But he kept at it. He meets this guy Ram Da Beetle, or some similar name. Ram Da Beetle’s got a big tent down near San Diego and he’s charging these suckers $175 for a five-day seminar. The tent is pitched on a cliff overlooking the sea. This old girl the Beetle is sleeping with, she owns the land, she lets him use it. Damion claims Ram Da Beetle gave him the final revelation he needed. And it was a shocker. I’m living in this small apartment in Detroit and he shows up and works the shocker on me…”
Tony looked higher up Meg’s legs and said, “Damion’s shocker? What shocker?”
“O.K., you know, he just appears …” Meg picked up her Tuborg.
“He came to visit you?”
“You might say that. Let me put it to you simply: Damion can dematerialize his body.”
“He can? Then what happens?”
“He appears someplace else.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“Long distances?”
“He came all the way from
“I like to choose. I have to care.”
“That’s so damned corny. The caring is already built-in. Then if you cultivate the caring long enough the next thing you know you think it’s love.”
“O.K., what’s wrong with love, Tony?”
“Love is a form of prejudice. You love what you need, you love what makes you feel good, you love what is convenient. How can you say you love one person when there are ten thousand people in the world that you would love more if you ever met them? But you’ll never meet them.”
“All right, so we do the best we can.”
“Granted. But we must still realize that love is just the resultof a chance encounter. Most people make too much of it. On these grounds a good fuck is not to be entirely scorned.”
“But that’s the result of a chance meeting too.”
“You’re damned right. Drink up. We’ll have another.”
“You’ve got a good line, Tony, but it’s not going to work.”
“Well,” said Tony, nodding the bartender over, “I’m not going to grieve about that either…”
It was a Saturday evening and they went back to Tony’s place and turned on the tv. There wasn’t a hell of a lot on. They drank some Tuborg and talked over the sound of the set.
“You ever heard the one,” asked Tony, “about horses being too smart to bet on people?”
“No.”
“Well, anyhow, it’s a saying. You’re not going to believe this but I had a dream the other night. I was down in the stables and a horse came to get me and give me a workout. There was a monkey with his arms and legs around my neck and he smelled of cheap wine. It was 6 a.m. and the cold wind blew in from the San Gabriel mountains. What’s more it was foggy. They worked me three furlongs in 52, handily. Then they hot-walked me for 30 minutes and walked me back to the barn. A horse came in and gave me two hardboiled eggs, grapefruit, toast and milk. Then I was in a race. The stands were packed with horses. It looked like a Saturday. I was in the fifth race. I came in first and paid $32.40. That was some dream, wasn’t it?”
“I’ll say,” said Meg. She crossed her legs. She had on a miniskirt but no pantyhose. Her boots covered the calves of her legs. Her thighs were bare, and full. “That was some dream.” She was 30. Lipstick ever so faintly glistened on her lips. Brunette, very dark, long hair. No powder, no perfume. Never fingerprinted. Born in the northern part of Maine. One hundred twenty pounds.
Tony got up and got two more bottles of beer. When he came back Meg said: “A strange dream, but many of them are. It’s when strange things happen in life, it makes you wonder…”
“Like?”
“Like my brother Damion. He was always poking into books…mysticism, yoga, all that shit. Come into a room he’d be as apt to be standing on his head in his jockey shorts as anything else.He even managed a couple of trips east…India, somewhere else. Came back hollow-cheeked and half-crazy, weighing about 76 pounds. But he kept at it. He meets this guy Ram Da Beetle, or some similar name. Ram Da Beetle’s got a big tent down near San Diego and he’s charging these suckers $175 for a five-day seminar. The tent is pitched on a cliff overlooking the sea. This old girl the Beetle is sleeping with, she owns the land, she lets him use it. Damion claims Ram Da Beetle gave him the final revelation he needed. And it was a shocker. I’m living in this small apartment in Detroit and he shows up and works the shocker on me…”
Tony looked higher up Meg’s legs and said, “Damion’s shocker? What shocker?”
“O.K., you know, he just appears …” Meg picked up her Tuborg.
“He came to visit you?”
“You might say that. Let me put it to you simply: Damion can dematerialize his body.”
“He can? Then what happens?”
“He appears someplace else.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“Long distances?”
“He came all the way from
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