Post Office

by Charles Bukowski

It wasn’t my fault that they used telephones and gas and light and bought all their things on credit. Yet when I brought them their bills they screamed at me—as if I had asked them to have a phone installed, or a $350 t.v. set sent over with no money down.

Food is good for the nerves and the spirit. Courage comes from the belly—all else is desperation.

I wasn’t much of a petty thief. I wanted the whole world or nothing.

It was as if I were coming with the whole ocean. It seemed to last and last. Then I rolled off. “Oh Jesus Christ,” I said, “Oh Jesus Christ!” I don’t know how Jesus Christ always got into such things.