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Stan Petrovich (7/7/2011 2:25:00 PM)
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Sure he was. Later him life he boasted about switching to 'natural' wine, as opposed to the skid-row stuff, like Midnight Train, et al that he was used to, and died in Tucson (I think) of cirrhossis anyway.
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Cailin O'Malley (5/23/2010 8:17:00 PM)
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Love it and know these feelings far too well... I guess they're what I live for, though.
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David Woods (3/16/2009 4:08:00 PM)
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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
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Mario Koun (6/11/2008 6:48:00 PM)
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We'll have enough time to rest when we die.
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Just Jes (4/30/2008 7:01:00 PM)
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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!
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Joan Forbush (3/16/2008 4:57:00 PM)
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I was really sick recently, and I felt the same way. After a while you just get tired of everything. Beautiful poem.
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***** ********* (5/20/2006 6:55:00 PM)
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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
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Marcy Jarvis (10/3/2005 10:25:00 AM)
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hey, plenty of people would be ecstatic if it was just a cat.
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Jeffrey Philip Clegg (7/14/2005 8:22:00 PM)
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And yes, at the moment, I'm doing a little tiny bit of drinking. Enough for typos or grammatical errors? ? Not even...
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Jeffrey Philip Clegg (7/14/2005 8:18:00 PM)
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You only live on by what you leave behind and this is pretty funny.
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Poets
