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Charles Bukowski

Charles Bukowski

moaning and groaning
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.

#1977 #AmericanWriters #LoveIsADogFromHell

Other works by Charles Bukowski...
A Pleasant Afternoon in Bed

red summers and black satin charcoal and blood ringing the sheets while snails are stepped on and moths go batty
Ham on Rye: 51

I only met one student at City College that I liked, Robert Becker. He wanted to be a writer. “I’m going to learn everything there is to learn about writing. It will be like taking a ca...
Post Office. Chapter I: 7

The toughest in the station. Apartment houses with boxes that had scrubbed-out names or no names at all, under tiny lightbulbs in dark halls. Old ladies standing in halls, up and down t...
his wife, the painter

There are sketches on the walls of… and outside a large green bus swer… insanity sprung from a waving line… says the radio, and Jane Austin,… “I am going to do her portrait on…
Democracy

the problem, of course, isn’t the… it’s the living parts which make up the Dem… the next person you pass on the st… multiply
elephants in the zoo

in the afternoon they lean against one another and you can see how much they like the sun.
the crunch

too much too little too fat too thin or nobody.
 5
starve, go mad, or kill yourself I’m

I’m not going to die easy; I’ve sat on your suicide beds in some of the worst holes in America,
roll the dice

if you’re going to try, go all the way. otherwise, don’t even start. if you’re going to try, go all the way.
 17
Women: 44

I had been sleeping on a terrible mattress with the springs sticking into me for several years. That afternoon when I awakened I pulled the mattress off the bed, dragged it outside, and...
As the Poems Go

as the poems go into the thousands… realize that you’ve created very little. it comes down to the rain, the sun… the traffic, the nights and the da…
 1
like a dolphin

dying has its rough edge. no escaping now. the warden has his eye on me. his bad eye. I’m doing hard time now.
 1
oh, yes

there are worse things than being alone but it often takes de cades to realize this and most often
 1
hug the dark

turmoil is the god madness is the god permanent living peace is permanent living death. agony can kill
the souls of dead animals

after the slaughter house there was a bar around the corner and I sat in there and watched the sun go down through the window,



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