Monstruos de Papel

Raymond Carver era un escritor americano perteneciente al Realismo Sucio quien publicó gran cantidad de relatos en revistas y periódicos como el New Yorker o Esquire en donde contaba la vida de los obreros y las clases desfavorecidas de la sociedad estadounidense, y es por aquella época en donde se publica un texto llamado “You don’t know what love is (An evening with Charles Bukowski)” perteneciente al libro “The Dirty Realism Duo” el cual he copiado porque me parece que es sumamente fuerte y real.

“You don’t know what love is Bukowski said

I’m 51 years old look at me

I’m in love with this young broad.

I got it bad but she’s hung up too

so it’s all right man that’s the way it should be.

I get in their blood and they can’t get me out

they try everything to get away from me

but they all come back in the end .

They all came back to me except

the one I planted.

I cried over that one

but I cried easy in those days.

Don’t let me get onto the hard stuff man

I get mean then.

I could sit here and drink beer

with you hippies all night.

I could drink ten quarts of this beer

and nothing it’s like water.

But let me get onto the hard stuff

and I’ll start throwing people out windows.

I’ll throw anybody out the window

I’ve done it.

But you don’t know what love is.

You don’t know because you’ve never

been in love it’s that simple.

I got this young broad see she’s beautiful.

She calls me Bukowski.

Bukowski she says in this little voice

and I say What.

But you don’t know what love is.

I’m telling you what it is

but you aren’t listening.

There isn’t one of you in this room

would recognize love if it stepped up

and buggered you in the ass.

I used to think poetry readings were a copout.

Look I’m 51 years old and I’ve been around.

I know they’re a copout

but I said to myself Bukowski

starving is even more of a copout.

So there you are and nothing is like it should be

that fellow what’s his name Galway Kinnell.

I saw his picture in a magazine.

He has a handsome mug on him

but he’s a teacher.

Christ can you imagine

but then you’re teachers too

here I am insulting you already.

No I haven’t heard of him

or him either.

They’re all termites

maybe it’s ego I don’t read much anymore

but these people w! ho build

reputations on five or six books

termites.

Bukowski she says

Why do you listen to classical music all day

can’t you hear her saying that.

Bukowski why do you listen to classical music all day

that surprises you doesn’t it.

You wouldn’t think a crude bastard like me

could listen to classical music all day.

Brahms Rachmaninoff Bartok Telemann

shit I couldn’t write up here.

Too quiet up here too many trees

I like the city that’s the place for me.

I put on my classical music each morning

and sit down in front of my typewriter.

I light a cigar and I smoke it like this see

and I say Bukowski you’re a lucky man.

Bukowski you’ve gone through it all

and you’re a lucky man

and the blue smoke drifts across the table

and I look out the window onto Delongpre Avenue

and I see people walking up and down the sidewalk

and I puff on the cigar like this

and then I lay the cigar in the ashtray like this and take a deep breath

and I begin to write.

Bukowski this is the life I say

it’s good to be poor it’s good to have hemorrhoids

it’s good to be in love.

But you don’t know what it’s like.

You don’t know what it’s like to be in love.

If you could see her you’d know what I mean.

She thought I’d come up here and get laid

she just knew it

she told me she knew it.

Shit I’m 51 years old and she’s 25

and we’re in love and she’s jealous.

Jesus it’s beautiful

she said she’d claw my eyes out if I came up here

and got laid.

Now that’s love for you.

What do any of you know about it

let me tell you something

I’ve met men in jail who had more style

than the people who hang around colleges

and go to poetry readings

They’re bloodsuckers who come to see

if the poet’s socks are dirty

or if he smells under the arms.

Believe me I won’t disappoint em

but I want you to remember this

there’s only one poet in this room tonight

only one poet in this town tonight

maybe only one real poet in this country tonight

and that’s me.

What do any of you know about life.

What do any of you know about anything.

Which of you here has been fired from a job

or else has beaten up your broad

or else has been beaten up by your broad.

I was fired from Sears and Roebuck five times.

they’d fire me then hire me back again

I was a stockboy for them when I was 35

and then got canned for stealing cookies

I know what’s it like I’ve been there.

I’m 51 years old now and I’m in love.

This little broad she says

Bukowski

and I say what and she says.

I think you’re full of shit

and I say baby you understand me.

She’s the only broad in the world

man or woman

I’d take that from.

But you don’t know what love is

they all came back to me in the end too

every one of em came back

except that one I told you about

the one I planted We were together seven years.

We used to drink a lot

I see a couple of typers in this room but

I don’t see any poets

I’m not surprised.

You have to have been in love to write poetry

and you don’t know what it is to be in love

that’s your trouble.

Give me some of that stuff

that’s right no ice good

that’s good that’s just fine

so let’s get this show on the road.

I know what I said but I’ll have just one

that tastes good.

Okay then let’s go let’s get this over with

only afterwards don’t anyone stand close

to an open window”.

He caído rendida a sus palabras. Increíbles.