Sunny side down

NOTHING. sitting in a cafe having breakfast. NOTHING. the waitress,
and the people eating. the traffic runs by. doesn't matter what
Napoleon did, what Plato said. Turgenev could have been  a fly. we are worn-
down, hope stamped out. we reach for coffee cups like the robots about 
to replace us. courage at Salermo, bloodbaths on the Eastern front didn't
matter. we know that we are beaten. NOTHING. now it's jusat a matter of
continuing 
	     anyhow -
chew the food and read the paper. we
read about ourselves. the news is
bad. something about
NOTHING.
Joe Louis long dead as the medfly invades Beverly Hills.
well, at least we can sit and
eat. it's been some rough
trip. it could be
worse. it could be worse than
NOTHING.

let's get more coffee from the
waitress. 
that bitch! she knows we are trying to get her
attention.
she just stands there doing
NOTHING.
it doesn't matter if Prince Charles falls off his horse
or that the hummingbird is so seldom 
seen 
or that we are too senseless to go 
insane.

coffee. give us more of NOTHING
coffee.

translations: ten bukowski poems translated into hungarian by h

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