Here you will find the Poem Hot of poet Charles Bukowski
she was hot, she was so hot I didn't want anybody else to have her, and if I didn't get home on time she'd be gone, and I couldn't bear that- I'd go mad. . . it was foolish I know, childish, but I was caught in it, I was caught. I delivered all the mail and then Henderson put me on the night pickup run in an old army truck, the damn thing began to heat halfway through the run and the night went on me thinking about my hot Miriam and jumping in and out of the truck filling mailsacks the engine continuing to heat up the temperature needle was at the top HOT HOT like Miriam. leaped in and out 3 more pickups and into the station I'd be, my car waiting to get me to Miriam who sat on my blue couch with scotch on the rocks crossing her legs and swinging her ankles like she did, 2 more stops. . . the truck stalled at a traffic light, it was hell kicking it over again. . . I had to be home by 8,8 was the deadline for Miriam. I made the last pickup and the truck stalled at a signal 1/2 block from the station. . . it wouldn't start, it couldn't start. . . I locked the doors, pulled the key and ran down to the station. . . I threw the keys down. . .signed out. . . your goddamned truck is stalled at the signal, I shouted, Pico and Western. . . . . .I ran down the hall,put the key into the door, opened it. . .her drinking glass was there, and a note: