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We Ain't Got No Money, Honey, But We Got Rain Analysis



Author: poem of Charles Bukowski Type: poem Views: 5

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call it the greenhouse effect or whatever



but it just doesn't rain like it used to.



I particularly remember the rains of the



depression era.



there wasn't any money but there was



plenty of rain.



it wouldn't rain for just a night or



a day,



it would RAIN for 7 days and 7



nights



and in Los Angeles the storm drains



weren't built to carry off taht much



water



and the rain came down THICK and



MEAN and



STEADY



and you HEARD it banging against



the roofs and into the ground



waterfalls of it came down



from roofs



and there was HAIL



big ROCKS OF ICE



bombing



exploding smashing into things



and the rain



just wouldn't



STOP



and all the roofs leaked-



dishpans,



cooking pots



were placed all about;



they dripped loudly



and had to be emptied



again and



again.



the rain came up over the street curbings,



across the lawns, climbed up the steps and



entered the houses.



there were mops and bathroom towels,



and the rain often came up through the



toilets:bubbling, brown, crazy,whirling,



and all the old cars stood in the streets,



cars that had problems starting on a



sunny day,



and the jobless men stood



looking out the windows



at the old machines dying



like living things out there.



the jobless men,



failures in a failing time



were imprisoned in their houses with their



wives and children



and their



pets.



the pets refused to go out



and left their waste in



strange places.



the jobless men went mad



confined with



their once beautiful wives.



there were terrible arguments



as notices of foreclosure



fell into the mailbox.



rain and hail, cans of beans,



bread without butter;fried



eggs, boiled eggs, poached



eggs; peanut butter



sandwiches, and an invisible



chicken in every pot.



my father, never a good man



at best, beat my mother



when it rained



as I threw myself



between them,



the legs, the knees, the



screams



until they



seperated.



"I'll kill you," I screamed



at him. "You hit her again



and I'll kill you!"



"Get that son-of-a-bitching



kid out of here!"



"no, Henry, you stay with



your mother!"



all the households were under



seige but I believe that ours



held more terror than the



average.



and at night



as we attempted to sleep



the rains still came down



and it was in bed



in the dark



watching the moon against



the scarred window



so bravely



holding out



most of the rain,



I thought of Noah and the



Ark



and I thought, it has come



again.



we all thought



that.



and then, at once, it would



stop.



and it always seemed to



stop



around 5 or 6 a.m.,



peaceful then,



but not an exact silence



because things continued to



drip



and there was no smog then



and by 8 a.m.



there was a



blazing yellow sunlight,



Van Gogh yellow-



crazy, blinding!



and then



the roof drains



relieved of the rush of



water



began to expand in the warmth:



PANG!PANG!PANG!



and everybody got up and looked outside



and there were all the lawns



still soaked



greener than green will ever



be



and there were birds



on the lawn



CHIRPING like mad,



they hadn't eaten decently



for 7 days and 7 nights



and they were weary of



berries



and



they waited as the worms



rose to the top,



half drowned worms.



the birds plucked them



up



and gobbled them



down;there were



blackbirds and sparrows.



the blackbirds tried to



drive the sparrows off



but the sparrows,



maddened with hunger,



smaller and quicker,



got their



due.



the men stood on their porches



smoking cigarettes,



now knowing



they'd have to go out



there



to look for that job



that probably wasn't



there, to start that car



that probably wouldn't



start.



and the once beautiful



wives



stood in their bathrooms



combing their hair,



applying makeup,



trying to put their world back



together again,



trying to forget that



awful sadness that



gripped them,



wondering what they could



fix for



breakfast.



and on the radio



we were told that



school was now



open.



and



soon



there I was



on the way to school,



massive puddles in the



street,



the sun like a new



world,



my parents back in that



house,



I arrived at my classroom



on time.



Mrs. Sorenson greeted us



with, "we won't have our



usual recess, the grounds



are too wet."



"AW!" most of the boys



went.



"but we are going to do



something special at



recess," she went on,



"and it will be



fun!"



well, we all wondered



what that would



be



and the two hour wait



seemed a long time



as Mrs.Sorenson



went about



teaching her



lessons.



I looked at the little



girls, they looked so



pretty and clean and



alert,



they sat still and



straight



and their hair was



beautiful



in the California



sunshine.



the the recess bells rang



and we all waited for the



fun.



then Mrs. Sorenson told us:



"now, what we are going to



do is we are going to tell



each other what we did



during the rainstorm!



we'll begin in the front row



and go right around!



now, Michael, you're first!. . ."



well, we all began to tell



our stories, Michael began



and it went on and on,



and soon we realized that



we were all lying, not



exactly lying but mostly



lying and some of the boys



began to snicker and some



of the girls began to give



them dirty looks and



Mrs.Sorenson said,



"all right! I demand a



modicum of silence



here!



I am interested in what



you did



during the rainstorm



even if you



aren't!"



so we had to tell our



stories and they were



stories.



one girl said that



when the rainbow first



came



she saw God's face



at the end of it.



only she didn't say which end.



one boy said he stuck



his fishing pole



out the window



and caught a little



fish



and fed it to his



cat.



almost everybody told



a lie.



the truth was just



too awful and



embarassing to tell.



then the bell rang



and recess was



over.



"thank you," said Mrs.



Sorenson, "that was very



nice.



and tomorrow the grounds



will be dry



and we will put them



to use



again."



most of the boys



cheered



and the little girls



sat very straight and



still,



looking so pretty and



clean and



alert,



their hair beautiful in a sunshine that



the world might never see



again.



and






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