Charles Bukowski

Tonalities

the soldiers march without guns
the graves are empty
peacocks glide in the rain
down stairways march great men smiling
there is food enough and rent enough and
time enough
our women will not grow old
I will not grow old
bums wear diamonds on their fingers
Hitler shakes hands with a Jew
the sky smells of roasted flesh
I am a burning curtain
I am steaming water
I am a snake I am an edge of glass that cuts
I am blood
I am this fiery snail
crawling home.
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