terror finally becomes almost
bearable
but never quite
terror creeps like a cat
crawls like a cat
across my mind
I can hear the laughter of the masses
they are strong
they will survive
like the roach
never take your eyes off the roach
you’ll never see it again.
the masses are everywhere
they know how to do things:
they have sane and deadly angers
for sane and deadly
things.
I wish I were driving a blue 1952 Buick
or a dark blue 1942 Buick
or a blue 1932 Buick
over a cliff of hell and into the
sea.
Other works by Charles Bukowski...
