DIE BESTEN GEDICHTE DES CHARLES BUKOWSKI (TEIL 19): COMPETITION

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hc10

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DIE BESTEN GEDICHTE DES

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CHARLES BUKOWSKI

(TEIL 19)

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COMPETITION

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hc11

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NrekkPuCN4s

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We live by the harbor now and at night

the ships often blow their foghorns.

She’s a light sleeper.

She will leap up, sitting straight up in bed.

„Damn!“ „What is it, what is it?“

„I thought you farted.“

„Not that time dear.“

She is a good child.

Living with me has dysfunctioned her nerves. :kicher:

Actually, I like to save up the farts

for the bathtub.

Those grey bubbles waft up

a magic stench.

Farting is much like fucking.

You can’t do it all the time.

But when you do

there often comes a feeling of proudness,

as if your artistry in the act were a rare

and precious thing.

I fart more than I fuck.

And I fart better than I fuck.

And I am pleased

to be mistaken for a foghorn

in the middle of the night.

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hc12

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