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Charles Bukowski

Charles Bukowski

For the Mercy-Mongers
it is justified
all dying is justified
all killing all death all
passing,
nothing is in vain
not even the neck
of a fly,
 
and a flower
passes through the armies
and like a small boy
bragging,
lifts up its
color.

#AmericanWriters #1973 #AtTerrorStreetAndAgonyWay #BurningInWaterDrowningInFlame

Other works by Charles Bukowski...
it was just a little while ago

almost dawn blackbirds on the telephone wire waiting as I eat yesterday’s forgotten sandwich
 2
stolen

I keep thinking it will be outside now waiting for me blue front bumper twisted
luck

what’s bad about all this is watching people drinking coffee and waiting. I would
Ham on Rye: 11

During the second and third grades I still didn’t get a chance to play baseball but I knew that somehow I was developing into a player. If I ever got a bat in my hands again I knew I wo...
The House

They are building a house half a block down and I sit up here with the shades down listening to the sounds,
The Laughing Heart

your life is your life don’t let it be clubbed into dank… be on the watch. there are ways out. there is a light somewhere.
 11
prayer in bad weather

by God, I don’t know what to do. they’re so nice to have around. they have a way of playing with the balls
 2
the loner

16 and one-half inch neck 68 years old lifts weights body like a young
Post Office. Chapter IV: 14

Marina Louise, Fay named the child. So there it was, Marina Louise Chinaski. In the crib by the window. Looking up at the tree leafs and bright designs whirling on the ceiling. Then she...
Young in New Orleans

starving there, sitting around the… and at night walking the streets f… hours, the moonlight always seemed fake to me, maybe it was,
 2
clean old man

here I’ll be 55 in a week. what will I write about
The Death of Chatterton, by Henry Wallis
the last days of the suicide kid

I can see myself now after all these suicide days and n… being wheeled out of one of those… (of course, this is only if I get… by a subnormal and bored nurse
 2
 22
Destroying Beauty

rose red sunlight; take it apart in the garage like a puzzle:
462-0614

I get many phonecalls now. They are all alike. “are you Charles Bukowski, the writer?” “yes,” I tell them.
ice for the eagles

keep remembering the horses under the moon keep remembering feeding the horse… sugar white oblongs of sugar



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