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Are You Drinking? by Charles Bukowski   
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Charles Bukowski
Charles Bukowski (1920 - 1994 / Andernach / Germany)
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Charles Bukowski, born in 1920, began writing at a young age and was first published in the 1940s. Then Bukowksi gave up writing for the world of work .. more >>
139 poems of Charles Bukowski
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Are You Drinking?

User Rating:

8.7 /10
(52 votes)



  washed-up, on shore, the old yellow notebook
out again
I write from the bed
as I did last
year.
will see the doctor,
Monday.
"yes, doctor, weak legs, vertigo, head-
aches and my back
hurts."
"are you drinking?" he will ask.
"are you getting your
exercise, your
vitamins?"
I think that I am just ill
with life, the same stale yet
fluctuating
factors.
even at the track
I watch the horses run by
and it seems
meaningless.
I leave early after buying tickets on the
remaining races.
"taking off?" asks the motel
clerk.
"yes, it's boring,"
I tell him.
"If you think it's boring
out there," he tells me, "you oughta be
back here."
so here I am
propped up against my pillows
again
just an old guy
just an old writer
with a yellow
notebook.
something is
walking across the
floor
toward
me.
oh, it's just
my cat
this
time.

Charles Bukowski


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Read poems about / on: cat, horse, running

 
  Comments about this poem (Are You Drinking? by Charles Bukowski )
Click here to write your comments about this poem (Are You Drinking? by Charles Bukowski )
 
  David Woods  (3/16/2009 4:08:00 PM)

A laconic poem, I feel like i've been there, felt that same world weariness. I wonder who/what he saw the last time someone walked across the floor
  Mario Koun  (6/11/2008 6:48:00 PM)

We'll have enough time to rest when we die.
  Just Jes  (4/30/2008 7:01:00 PM)

the beauty of Bukowski is that he is a master of crafting words that Everyman can relate to. That heavy side of life that you'd find talking to any person suffering through life is so present in this poem. You don't have to have watched a person suffer through the ravages of Cancer to comprehend this. Fighting is tiresome, even if the demons are self inflicted. This is just great writing. Its not covered in perfume, or redundant cerebral metaphors. it simply is what it is!
  Joan Forbush  (3/16/2008 4:57:00 PM)

I was really sick recently, and I felt the same way. After a while you just get tired of everything. Beautiful poem.
  ***** *********  (5/20/2006 6:55:00 PM)

Why does Charles Bukowski write such a poem to be remembered by? Springs to mind when reading this excellent account of his fading life in his vivid view. Just a thought from ever pondering why? Tai
  Marcy Jarvis  (10/3/2005 10:25:00 AM)

hey, plenty of people would be ecstatic if it was just a cat.
  Jeffrey Philip Clegg  (7/14/2005 8:22:00 PM)

And yes, at the moment, I'm doing a little tiny bit of drinking. Enough for typos or grammatical errors? ? Not even...
  Jeffrey Philip Clegg  (7/14/2005 8:18:00 PM)

You only live on by what you leave behind and this is pretty funny.
  Joe Guillotin  (6/6/2005 1:26:00 AM)

I believe if youre famous enough- and enough people believe you are alive, you can come back to life..but only to appear at shopping mall openings/book signings. Sadly - bukowski can't continue his work post mortum(but I will see him at that mall opening in SOHO) .

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