Are You Drinking?

washed-up, on shore, the old yellow notebook
out again
I write frome the bed as
I did last
year.
Will see the doctor,
Monday.
"yes, doctor, weak legs, vertigo head-
aches and my back
hurts"
"are you drinking?" he will ask-
"are you getting your
exercise, your
vitamins?"
I think that I am just ill
with life, the same stale yet
fluctuating
factors.
Even at the track
I watch the horses run by
and it seems
meaningless.
I leave early after buying tickets on the
remaining races.
"taking off?" asks the motel
clerk.
"yes it's boring,"
I tell him.
"If you thing it's boring
out here." he tells me "you oughta be
back here"
so here I am
propped up against my pillows
again
just an old guy
just an old writer
with a yellow
notebook.
Something is
walking across the
floor
toward
me.
Oh, it's just
my cat
this
time.

Charles Bukowsk