she writes: you’ll
be moaning and groaning
in your poems
about how I fucked
those 2 guys last week.
I know you.
she writes on to
say that my vibe
machine was right—
she had just fucked
a third guy
but she knows I don’t
want to hear who, why
or how. she closes her
letter, “Love.”
rats and roaches
have triumphed again.
here it comes running
with a slug in its
mouth, it’s singing
old love songs.
close the windows
moan
close the doors
groan.
Other works by Charles Bukowski...
