Montag, 22. April 2013


So, on Saturday, I went to the race track
Placed all my hope on win, place, and show
but by and large
only on half-lame nags
Of course, I lost
I ain't a gambler
and I haven't a clue about horses
and even less about writing
Twiddling with a flask in my pocket
on a drafty grandstand
doesn't make a Bukowski out of me
"Whatcha think about Cross my Shadow?"
asked an old man, worn for wear
"Can barely walk in a straight line, oughta be disqualified"
I said, taking a shot from my bottle
"You think?"
"Yep" I said, crumpling my betting slip
 (Foto: Filmarchiv Austria)

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