A Man (Charles Bukowski Poem)
George was lying in his trailer, flat on his back, watching a small portable T.V. His dinner dishes were undone, ...
George was lying in his trailer, flat on his back, watching a small portable T.V. His dinner dishes were undone, ...
Cass was the youngest and most beautiful of 5 sisters. Cass was the most beautiful girl in town. 1/2 Indian ...
drunk again at 3 a.m. at the end of my 2nd bottle of wine, I have typed from a dozen ...
either peace or happiness, let it enfold you when i was a young man I felt these things were dumb,unsophisticated. ...
About the size of an old-style dollar bill, American or Canadian, mostly the same whites, gray greens, and steel grays ...
In the cold, cold parlor my mother laid out Arthur beneath the chromographs: Edward, Prince of Wales, with Princess Alexandra, ...
Land lies in water; it is shadowed green. Shadows, or are they shallows, at its edges showing the line of ...
I dreamed that dead, and meditating, I lay upon a grave, or bed, (at least, some cold and close-built bower). ...
In the red-roofed stucco house of my childhood, the dining room was screened off by folding doors with small glass ...
See her come bearing down, a tidy craft! Gaily her topsails bulge, her sidelights burn! There's jigging in her rigging ...
As if you actually died in that dream and woke up dead. Shadows of untangling vines tumble toward the ceiling. ...
As evening falls, The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls Tremble and glow with the lives within them moving, ...
Well, as you say, we live for small horizons: We move in crowds, we flow and talk together, Seeing so ...
We sit together and talk, or smoke in silence. You say (but use no words) 'this night is passing As ...
This is the house. On one side there is darkness, On one side there is light. Into the darkness you ...
Midnight; bells toll, and along the cloud-high towers The golden lights go out . . . The yellow windows darken, ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
Music I heard with you was more than music, And bread I broke with you was more than bread; Now ...
I. (Bread and Music) Music I heard with you was more than music, And bread I broke with you was ...
from Senlin: A Biography It is morning, Senlin says, and in the morning When the light drips through the shutters ...
A quay with vessels moored Thomas To India! Yea, here I may take ship; From here the courses go over ...
I don't know somehow it seems sufficient to see and hear whatever coming and going is, losing the self to ...
As Parmigianino did it, the right hand Bigger than the head, thrust at the viewer And swerving easily away, as ...
And the town is frozen solid in a vice, Trees, walls, snow, beneath a glass. Over crystal, on slippery tracks ...
Memorial day for the war dead. Add now the grief of all your losses to their grief, even of a ...
A precise woman with a short haircut brings order to my thoughts and my dresser drawers, moves feelings around like ...
And the first grey of morning fill'd the east, And the fog rose out of the Oxus stream. But all ...
Cruising these residential Sunday streets in dry August sunlight: what offends us is the sanities: the houses in pedantic rows, ...
The world is full of women who'd tell me I should be ashamed of myself if they had the chance. ...
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