Charles Bukowski: some picnic

some picnic

which reminds me

I shacked with Jane for 7 years

she was a drunk

I loved her

my parents hated her

I hated my parents

it made a nice

foursome

one day we went on a picnic

together

up in the hills

and we played cards and drank beer and

ate potato salad and weenies

they talked to her as if she were a living person

at last

everybody laughed

I didn't laugh.

later at my place

over the whiskey

I said to her,

I don't like them

but it's good they treated you

nice.

you damn fool, she said,

don't you see?

see what?

they keep looking at my beer-belly,

they think I'm

pregnant.

oh, I said, well here's to our beautiful

child.

here's to our beautiful child,

she said.

we drank them down.