poem where he barfs on a cat? (1 Viewer)

[MamieTaylor]

I was introduced to Bukowski by a poem where our protagonist wakes with a massive hangover, opens the front door (maybe for the paper) and vomits on the cat. It was love at first read. I'm hoping to find this poem and the collection it's published in. Does anyone know the title? Thank you!

xo

 

[zobraks]

I don't remember the poem but it's obvious which collection you should peruse.

P.S. Maybe it wasn't a poem. I trawled a heap of PDFs, searching for "cat," "vomit," "puke," "barf," "heave" and so on and the closest to what you're looking for is a part from Women (chapter 4):

I drank my beer and wandered around. I walked out on the back porch, sat on the stoop in the alley and watched a large black cat trying to get into a garbage can. I walked down towards him. He leaped off the garbage can as I approached. He stood 3 or 4 feet away watching me. I took the lid off the garbage can. The stench was horrible. I puked into the can. I dropped the lid on the pavement. The cat leaped up, stood, all four feet together upon the rim of the can. He hesitated, then brilliant under a half-moon, he leaped into it all.

 

[MamieTaylor]

Thanks, Zobraks, you're good!

It was actually while perusing On Cats that I remembered my 'first' poem. I'd never had a hangover at that point in my life, but could feel his blinking nausea as he opened the door to a too-bright morning and without ceremony, blechh. I think the rest of the poem was about whether he should go back to the woman &other nonsense hovering inside. The cat in this one may have been too transitory a device to have made it into the definitive volume. I love that you found the equivalent night-prose stanza.

 

[esart]

There's a short story where he vomits into a mug. Maybe that's what you're looking for? Sometimes when I am drunk, I get cats confused with mugs.

 

[MamieTaylor]

For sure, he was versatile in his vomiting activities. That's what makes this so hard to pin down. There was no receptacle to contain the untidiness expressed in this poem. The cat getting sprayed by random stench was a metaphor I could relate to. That's why it stuck with me. It was definitely a poem.

Esart, are mugs the only things you confuse with cats when you're drunk?

 

[esart]

No, I get all sorts of items and particles confused when I'm high. Sorry for the confusion.

 

[hoochmonkey9]

I watched an episode of a Canadian sitcom last night where a hungover school principal pukes on her cat.

Apropos of nothing.

 

[Johannes]

The Title "On Cats" reaches a new dimension if you correlate it with Bukowski puking on them.

 

[Black Swan]

I remember my friend puking in her purse as she was driving. :)

 

[MamieTaylor]

Swan, your friend is a pro in the lady game!

 

[Johannes]

I remember my friend puking in her purse as she was driving. :)

That's style. Holding the purse with one hand, steering with the other. Finishing your business. Then switching radio stations and driving on.