A Radio With Guts

it was on the 2nd floor on Coronado Street
I used to get drunk
and throw the radio through the window
while it was playing, and, of course,
it would break the glass in the window
and the radio would sit there on the roof
still playing
and I'd tell my woman,
"Ah, what a marvelous radio!"
the next morning I'd take the window
off the hinges
and carry it down the street
to the glass man
who would put in another pane.
I kept throwing that radio through the window
each time I got drunk
and it would sit there on the roof
still playing-
a magic radio
a radio with guts,
and each morning I'd take the window
back to the glass man.
I don't remember how it ended exactly
though I do remember
we finally moved out.
there was a woman downstairs who worked in
the garden in her bathing suit,
she really dug with that trowel
and she put her behind up in the air
and I used to sit in the window
and watch the sun shine all over that thing
while the music played.

by Charles Bukowski

Comments (15)

Radio was so honest that it kept doing the given work....but you never seemed to appreciate it....your admiration was elsewhere...honestly crafted work- 10++
Good thing he threw that radio out the window so he'd be able to stick his head out and get a better look. Good thing that radio was so tough, so he could do it again and again. Wise that old Bukowski was.
I find this poem interesting. If you change the form and punctuation, It would be good prose. this is true with much of free form.
This sounds more like the Bukowski I know than the poems of his I just read. It also is considerably less accomplished as poetry. But amusing. He must write better when he's sadder.
Radio with guts, very captivating lines in this poem here.
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