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Charles Bukowski

Charles Bukowski

the most

here comes the fishhead singing
here comes the baked potato in drag
 
here comes nothing to do all day long
here comes another night of no sleep
 
here comes the phone wringing the wrong tone
 
here comes a termite with a banjo
here comes a flagpole with blank eyes
here comes a a cat and a dog wearing nylons
 
here comes a machine gun saying
here comes bacon burning in the pan
here comes a voice saying something dull
 
here comes a newspaper stuffed with small red birds
with flat brown beaks
 
here comes a cunt carrying a torch
a grenade
a deathly love
 
here comes a victory carrying
one bucket of blood
and stumbling over the berry bush
 
 
and the sheets hang out the windows
 
and the bombers head east west north south
 
get lost
get tossed like salad
 
as all the fish in the sea line up and form
one line
one long line
one very long thin line
the longest line you could ever imagine
 
and we get lost
walking past purple mountains
 
we walk lost
bare at last like the knife
 
having given
having spit it out like an unexpected olive seed
 
as the girl at the call service
screams over the phone:
“don’t call back! you sound like a jerk!”

#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell

Altre opere di Charles Bukowski...
a lovely couple

I had to take a shit but instead I went into this shop to have a key made. the woman was dressed
The Look:

once bought a toy rabbit at a department store and now he sits and ponders me with pink sheer eyes: He wants golf balls and glass
tonight

“your poems about the girls will s… 50 years from now when the girls a… my editor phones me. dear editor: the girls appear to be gone
Ham on Rye: 49

I looked for a job all summer and couldn’t find one. Jimmy Hatcher caught on at an aircraft plant. Hitler was acting up in Europe and creating jobs for the unemployed. I had been with J...
Ham on Rye: 29

That summer, July 1934, they gunned down John Dillinger outside the movie house in Chicago. He never had a chance. The Lady in Red had fingered him. More than a year earlier the banks h...
they, all of them, know

ask the sidewalk painters of Paris ask the sunlight on a sleeping dog ask the 3 pigs ask the paperboy ask the music of Donizetti
the world’s greatest loser

he used to sell papers in front: Get your winners! Get rich on a d… and about the 3rd or 4th race you’d see him rolling in on his ro… with roller skates underneath.
The Model Resting, by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec
Somebody

god I got the sad blue blues, this woman sat there and she said are you really Charles Bukowski?
 4
Post Office. Chapter VI: 8

You had to fill out more papers to get out than to get in. The first page they gave you was a personalized mimeo affair from the postmaster of the city. It began: “I am sorry you are te...
Children in The Sky

the boys come up the boys climb up the brown pole as the waterheater gurgles in Spanish
trapped

in the winter walking on my ceiling my eyes the size of street… I have 4 feet like a mouse but wash my own underwear—bearded and hungover and a hard-on and no lawy…
Women: 18

In the morning Dee Dee drove me to the Sunset Strip for breakfast. The Mercedes was black and shone in the sun. We drove past the billboards and the nightclubs and the fancy restaurants...
one for Sherwood Anderson

sometimes I forget about him and h… innocence, almost idiotic, awkward… he liked walking over bridges and… to night I think about him, the wa… one felt space between his lines,…
Ham on Rye: 2

I remember the Model-T. Sitting high, the running boards seemed friendly, and on cold days, in the mornings, and often at other times, my father had to fit the hand-crank into the front...
Women: 3

One morning a few days later I entered Lydia’s courtyard as she was walking in from the alley. She had been over to see her friend Tina who lived in an apartment house on the corner. Sh...



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