English poetry

Poems in English

Layover

Layover

Making love in the sun, in the morning sun
In a hotel room
Above the alley
Where poor men poke for bottles;
Making love in the sun
Making love by a carpet redder than our blood,
Making love while the boys sell headlines
And Cadillacs,
Making love by a photograph of Paris
And an open pack of Chesterfields,
Making love while other men – poor folks-
Work.
That moment – to this. . .
May be years in the way they measure,
But it’s only one sentence back in my mind-
There are so many days
When living stops and pulls up and sits
And waits like a train on the rails.
I pass the hotel at 8
And at 5; there are cats in the alleys
And bottles and bums,
And I look up at the window and think,
I no longer know where you are,
And I walk on and wonder where
The living goes
When it stops.



Poem Layover - Charles Bukowski