Me and my Porsches

THE RED PORSCHE By Charles Bukowski

it feels good

to be driven about in a red

porsche

by a woman better-

read than I

am.

it feels good

to be driven about in a red

porsche

by a woman who can explain

things about

classical

music to

me.

it feels good

to be driven about in a red

porsche

by a woman who buys

things for my refrigerator

and my

kitchen:

cherries, plums, lettuce, celery,

green onions, brown onions,

eggs, muffins, long

chilis, brown sugar,

Italian seasoning, oregano, white

wine vinegar, pompeian olive oil

and red

radishes.

I like being driven about

in a red porsche

while I smoke cigarettes in

gentle languor.

I’m lucky. I’ve always been

lucky:

even when I was starving to death

the bands were playing for

me.

but the red porsche is very nice

and she is

too, and I’ve learned to feel good when

I feel good.

it’s better to be driven around in a

red porsche

than to own

one. the luck of the fool is

inviolate.