Charles Bukowski Poems

I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
...

call it the greenhouse effect or whatever
but it just doesn't rain like it used to.
I particularly remember the rains of the
depression era.
...

I pick up the skirt,
I pick up the sparkling beads
in black,
this thing that moved once
...

he drank wine all night of the
28th, and he kept thinking of her:
the way she walked and talked and loved
the way she told him things that seemed true
...

he lives in a house with a swimming pool
and says the job is
killing him.
he is 27. I am 44. I can’t seem to
...

naked along the side of the house,
8 a.m., spreading sesame seed oil
over my body, Jesus, have I come
to this?
...

during my worst times
on the park benches
in the jails
or living with
...

sway with me, everything sad -
madmen in stone houses
without doors,
lepers steaming love and song
...

It's never quite right, he said, the way people look,
the way the music sounds, the way the words are
written.
It's never quite right, he said, all the things we are
...

I reached up into the top of the closet
and took out a pair of blue panties
and showed them to her and
...