THE COLUMN by CHARLES BUKOWSKY

to avoid the inexplicable
had always been
a necessity for me.
and so this day in 1942
I was 21 years old
sitting on a park bench
with and like the
other bums
when the war chariots
rolled by
soldiers on their way
to war
and the soldiers saw
me
hated me
began yelling and cursing
at me
asking me what the hell I
thought I was doing there!
I was the only young bum
in the park.
the soldiers wanted me to be going
with them.
the whole column of them
screamed and cursed at
me
as they drove
by.
then the column was
gone and the old bum
next to me
asked, “how come you
ain’t in the Service,
son?”
I got up and walked
down to the library.
I went inside
found a book and
sat down
at a table.
I began to read
the book.
the meaning was
too deep
for me
then.
so I put it
back on the shelf
walked back outside
and waited.