“Ham On Rye”

We walked over to where they were standing. We looked up.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Hell, can’t you see it?” one of the big guys asked.
“See what?”
“It’s a cunt.”
“A cunt? Where?”
“Look, right there! See it?”
He pointed.
There was a woman sitting with her skirt bunched back underneath her.
She didn’t have any panties on, and looking up between the planks you could
see her cunt.
“See it?”
“Yeah, I see it. It’s a cunt,” said Frank.
“All right, now you guys get out of here and keep your mouths shut.”
“But we want to look at it a little longer,” said Frank. “Just let us
look a little longer.”
“All right, but not too long.”
We stood there looking up at it.
“I can see it,” I said.
“It’s a cunt,” said Frank.
“It’s really a cunt,” I said.
“Yeah,” said one of the big guys, “that’s what it is.”
“I’ll always remember this,” I said.
“All right, you guys, it’s time to go.”
“What for?” asked Frank. “Why can’t we keep looking?”
“Because,” said one of the big guys, “I’m going to do something.
Now get out of here!”
We walked off.
“I wonder what he’s going to do?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” said Frank, “maybe he’s going to throw a rock at
it.”
-Charles Bukowski – “Ham On Rye”