У Буковски, оказывается, прелестные стихи... вот, например: I...

У Буковски, оказывается, прелестные стихи... вот, например:

I cannot stand tears

there were several hundred fools
around the goose who broke her leg
trying to decide
what to do
when the gaurd walked up
and pulled out his cannon
and the issue was finished
except for a woman
who ran out of a hut
claiming he'd killed her pet
but the gaurd rubbed his straps
and told her
kiss my ass,
take it to the president;
the woman was crying
and I cannot stand tears.

I folded my canvas
and went further down the road:
the bastards had ruined
my landscape.