Charles Bukowski — He Wore A Green Silk Shirt

Coming through the doorway, a lump of cancer along the inside of his left leg He wore a green silk shirt, old-fashioned black and white shoes, hair clipped all over his head but needing a shave Yellow wrinkled pants, dark shades He gave the note to the teller who was female, went crazy and scream He hit her across the face with the gun butt, reached a handful of twenty's from the drawer and turned in time to get the uniform guard- a fat guy, very big buck, grew roses, named Broussard Broussard went down on the big fat butt, a very beautiful red coming out on his shirt like roses The bandit started running half sideways toward the door or looking for somebody to shoot, looking for a hole in the sky- a way to make it The people seemed to fit into the walls and he made it outside, still running half bent And then the squad car came from the other way, he saw it and ran up an alley The two cops jumped right out and ran up the alley, then you heard the shots Very loud in that dark valley between the downtown buildings The violence and gamble and anger of all men, screaming Then it was quiet He thought of bread-baking or men under oxygen tents When the ambulance came they carried out one cop, put him in first Then carried out the bandit, put him in the same ambulance And the cop who was standing, holding, Waiting, standing there holding his wrist where he'd been shot He suddenly fainted and they put him in too and drove off And the people stood, talking and talking, and talking, and talking