Author: Charles Bukowski

naked along the side of the house, 8 a. m., spreading sesame seed oil Over my body, Jesus, have I […]

I’ve come by, she says, to tell you That this is it. I’m not kidding, it’s Over. this is it. […]

there is always that space there Just before they get to us That space That fine relaxer The breather While […]

when I look back now At the abuse I took from Her I feel shame that I was so Innocent, […]

washed-up, on shore, the old yellow notebook out again I write from the bed as I did last year. will […]

waiting for death Like a cat That will jump on the Bed I am so very sorry for My wife […]

often it is the only Thing Between you and Impossibility. No drink, No woman’s love, No wealth Can Match it. […]

drunk again at 3 a. m. at the end of my 2nd bottle Of wine, I have typed from a […]

the lady has me temporarily off the bottle And now the pecker stands up Better. However, things change overnight Instead […]

one of Lorca’s best lines Is, “agony, always Agony…” Think of this when you Kill a Cockroach or Pick up […]

at the track today, Father’s Day, Each paid admission was Entitled to a wallet And each contained a Little surprise. […]

ah, christ, what a CREW: More Poetry, always more P O E T R Y. If it doesn’t come, coax […]

during my worst times on the park benches in the jails or living with whores I always had this certain […]

she’s young, she said, But look at me, I have pretty ankles, And look at my wrists, I have pretty […]

good weather Is like Good women- It doesn’t always happen And when it does It doesn’t Always last. Man is […]