Free Play the Piano Drunk Like a Percussion Instrument Until the Fingers Begin to Bleed a Bit by Charles Bukowski Page B

….
     
 
    bullshit. I rip the page once, twice,
    three times, then check for matches and
    icecubes, hot and cold,
    with some men their conversation is better than
    their creation
    and with other men
    it’s a woman
    almost any woman
    that is their Rodin among park benches;
    bird down in road awaiting rats and wheels
    I know that I have deserted you,
    the icecubes pile like fool’s gold
    in the pitcher
    and now they are playing
    Alex Scriabin
    which is a little better
    but not much
    for me.
     

fire station
     
     
    (For Jane, with love)
 
    we came out of the bar
    because we were out of money
    but we had a couple of wine bottles
    in the room.
     
 
    it was about 4 in the afternoon
    and we passed a fire station
    and she started to go
    crazy:
     
 
    “a FIRE STATION! oh, I just love
    FIRE engines, they’re so red and
    all! let’s go in!”
     
 
    I followed her on
    in. “FIRE ENGINES!” she screamed
    wobbling her big
    ass.
     
 
    she was already trying to climb into
    one, pulling her skirt up to her
    waist, trying to jacknife up into the
    seat.
     
 
    “here, here, lemme help ya!” a fireman ran
    up.
     
 
    another fireman walked up to
    me: “our citizens are always welcome,”
    he told
    me.
     
 
    the other guy was up in the seat with
    her. “you got one of those big THINGS?”
    she asked him. “oh, hahaha!, I mean one of
    those big HELMETS!”
     
 
    “I’ve got a big helmet too,” he told
    her.
     
 
    “oh, hahaha!”
     
 
    “you play cards?” I asked my
    fireman. I had 43 cents and nothing but
    time.
     
 
    “come on in back,” he
    said. “of course, we don’t gamble.
    it’s against the
    rules.”
     
 
    “I understand,” I told
    him.
     
 
    I had run my 43 cents up to a
    dollar ninety
    when I saw her going upstairs with
    her fireman.
     
 
    “he’s gonna show me their sleeping
    quarters,” she told
    me.
     
 
    “I understand,” I told
    her.
     
 
    when her fireman slid down the pole
    ten minutes later
    I nodded him
    over.
     
 
    “that’ll be 5
    dollars.”
    “5 dollars for
    that?”
     
 
    “we wouldn’t want a scandal, would
    we? we both might lose our
    jobs. of course, I’m not
    working.”
     
 
    he gave me the
    5.
     
 
    “sit down, you might get it
    back.”
     
 
    “whatcha playing?”
    “blackjack.”
     
 
    “gambling’s against the
    law.”
     
 
    “anything interesting is. besides,
    you see any money on the
    table?”
    he sat down.
     
 
    that made 5 of
    us.
     
 
    “how was it Harry?” somebody asked
    him.
     
 
    “not bad, not
    bad.”
     
 
    the other guy went on
    upstairs.
     
 
    they were bad players really.
    they didn’t bother to memorize the
    deck. they didn’t know whether the
    high numbers or low numbers were left. and basically they hit too
high,
    didn’t hold low
    enough.
     
 
    when the other guy came down
    he gave me a
    five.
     
 
    “how was it, Marty?”
    “not bad. she’s got…some fine
    movements.”
     
 
    “hit me!” I said. “nice clean girl. I
    ride it myself.”
     
 
    nobody said
    anything.
     
 
    “any big fires lately?” I
    asked.
     
 
    “naw. nothin’
    much.”
     
 
    “you guys need
    exercise. hit me
    again!”
     
 
    a big red-headed kid who had been shining an
    engine
    threw down his rag and
    went upstairs.
     
 
    when he came down he threw me a
    five.
    when the 4th guy came down I gave him
    3 fives for a
    twenty.
     
 
    I don’t know how many firemen
    were in the building or where they
    were. I figured a few had slipped by me
    but I was a good
    sport.
     
 
    it was getting dark outside
    when the alarm
    rang.
     
 
    they started running around.
    guys came sliding down the
    pole.
     
 
    then she came sliding down the
    pole. she was good with the
    pole. a real woman. nothing but guts
    and
    ass.
     
 
    “let’s go,” I told
    her.
     
 
    she stood there waving goodbye to the
    firemen but they didn’t seem
    much interested
    any more.
     
 
    “let’s go back to the
    bar,” I