Read Online What Matters Most is How Well You Walk Through the Fire by Charles Bukowski - Free Book Online Page A

landing!”
    we landed
    took off again and she put
    another drink in my hand,
    took my money and then
    hollered, “drink up,
    we’re landing!”
    the 3rd time I ordered
    2 drinks
    although we only landed
    once more.
    I read twice that night in Arkansas
    and ended up in a home with
    clean rugs, a serving bar, a fireplace
    and professors who spoke about budgets
    and Fulbright scholarships, and where
    the wives of the professors
    sat very quietly without speaking.
    they were all waiting for me
    the entertainer
    who had flown in with Captain
    Goodwine to
    entertain them to make a move on
    someone’s wife to break the windows
    to piss on the rug to play the
    fool to make them feel superior
    to make them feel hip and liberated.
    if I would only stick a cigarette
    up the cat’s ass!
    if I would only take the
    willing co-ed
    who was doing a term paper on
    Chinaski!
    but I got up and went to my
    poet’s bedroom
    closed the door
    took off my clothes
    went to bed and
    went to sleep
    thereby
    entertaining myself
    the best way
    I knew
    how.

morning love
    I awakened about 10:30 a.m.
    Sunday morning
    and I sat straight up in bed
    and I said,
    â€œo, Jesus Christ!”
    and she said,
    â€œwhat’s the matter, Hank?”
    and I said, “it’s my car. do you
    remember where we parked last night?”
    and she said,
    â€œno, I don’t.”
    and I said,
    â€œwell, I think there’s something strange going on.”
    and I got dressed and went out on the street.
    I was worried.
    I had no idea where the car was
    and I walked up my street and down the next
    street and I didn’t see it.
    I have love affairs with my cars
    and the older they are and/or the longer I have them
    the more I care.
    this one was an ancient love.
    â€”then three blocks to the west I saw it:
    parked dead center in the middle of a very narrow
    street. nobody could enter the street or leave it.
    my car sat there calmly like a forgotten drunk.
    I walked over, got in, put the key in, and it
    started.
    there was no ticket.
    I felt good.
    I drove it to my street and parked it
    carefully.
    I walked back up the stairway and opened the
    door.
    â€œwell, is your car all right?” she asked.
    â€œyeah, I found it,” I said, “guess where it…”
    â€œ you worry too much about that god-damned car! ”
    she snapped. “did you bring back any 7-Up, any beer?
    I need something now! ”
    I undressed and got back into bed and
    pushed my fat ass up against her fat
    belly and never said another
    word.

an old jockey
    when you no longer see their name on the program
    at Hollywood Park or Santa Anita
    you figure they have retired
    but it’s not always the case.
    sometimes women or bad investments
    or drink or drugs
    don’t let them quit.
    then you see them down at Caliente
    on bad mounts
    vying against the flashy Mexican boys
    or you see them at the county fair
    dashing for that first hairpin
    turn.
    it’s like once-famous fighters
    being fed to the rising small-town hero.
    I was in Phoenix one afternoon
    and the people were talking and chattering and talking
    so I borrowed my lady’s car
    and got out of there
    and drove to the track.
    I had a fair day.
    then in the last race
    the jock brought in a longshot:
    $48.40 and I looked at the program:
    R.Y.
    so that’s what happened to him?
    and when he pulled his mount up inside the winner’s
    circle he shook his whip in the air
    just like he used to do at Hollywood Park.
    it was like seeing the dead
    newly risen:
    good old R.Y.
    5 pounds overweight
    a bit older
    and still able to
    create the magic.
    I hadn’t noticed his name
    on that $3,500 claiming race
    or I would have put a small
    sentimental bet on him
    on his only mount of the day.
    you can have your New Year’s parties
    your birthdays
    your Christmas
    your 4th of July
    I’ll take my kind of magic.
    driving back in
    I felt very good for R.Y.
    when I got back they were