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User Rating: |
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7.9
/10
(38
votes)
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I awaken about noon and go out to get the mail
in my old torn bathrobe.
I'm hung over
hair down in my eyes
barefoot
gingerly walking on the small sharp rocks
in my path
still afraid of pain behind my four-day beard.
the young housewife next door shakes a rug
out of her window and sees me:
"hello, Hank!"
god damn! it's almost like being shot in the ass
with a .22
"hello," I say
gathering up my Visa card bill, my Pennysaver coupons,
a Dept. of Water and Power past-due notice,
a letter from the mortgage people
plus a demand from the Weed Abatement Department
giving me 30 days to clean up my act.
I mince back again over the small sharp rocks
thinking, maybe I'd better write something tonight,
they all seem
to be closing in.
there's only one way to handle those motherfuckers.
the night harness races will have to wait.
Charles Bukowski
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Read poems about / on: power, hair, water, people, pain, god, night
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Comments about this poem (back to the machine gun
by
Charles Bukowski
) |
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Click here to write your
comments about this poem (back to the machine gun by
Charles Bukowski
)
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Emily Maggard
(10/6/2009 2:56:00 PM) |
Bukowski is a genius in that he can paint a lively picture from the mundane. Every detail given to the reader is well thought out- the title is a striking metaphor- we feel his unease at getting the mail in his tattered robe- the disappointment of bills in the mail. These are careful details of a depressed person, trying to paint a picture of reality, or the reality of his life. His weapon is the typewriter. Larry, you don't have to like it, but I cannot fathom how you can't see the poetry in his words. I think Bukowski is one of the greatest poets of his time for this- making art out of the dirty realities of his life. The Birds is one of my favorites.
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Sally Plumb Plumb
(7/25/2009 3:49:00 AM) |
Everything he writes shines like the morning star.
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Harold Shannon
(7/21/2009 11:34:00 AM) |
What speaks to me here is the title. Bukowski's machine gun is his typewriter. Those who are old enough to remember that sound will agree that the short, angry, staccado, bursts are the only plausible response to the invasiveness of every senseation reaching your brain as you emerge from who knows what nightmarish four day alcohol soaked cuckoon you have spun for yourself this time.
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Adam Wilson
(3/13/2009 2:17:00 AM) |
Kudos to brian. Larry deserves a slap in the face(Moron) . You missed the boat man. It is these 'boring' days that define who we really are. Nothing is particularly wrong with escapism, it's necessary at times, but to say that is what defines poetry is an idiotic statement sir. Poetry has no definition. None that i will recognize anyways. Every man's everyday is different from our own, and in its own way, it is art.
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Larry Gorlitz
(11/27/2008 9:33:00 PM) |
Why do we need to have the everyday described to us? It's boring. If anything it's poetry that should be the escapism. There literally is nothing poetic about this. His language here is not used for its aesthetic or evocative qualities past its apparent meaning. It could have been written as a paragraph. Clearly the ramblings of a drunken fool.
Maybe I'm being harsh on the guy.
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Just Jes
(4/30/2008 7:42:00 PM) |
<- Does not agree with Ryan.
Thats like saying you have to be able to count Banyon Trees home to understand Hemmingway, who was also quite intese, and also at ime dry as salt
I get Bukowski and I'm a saint when it comes to drink and the common Alchie.
He's just a realist... Perhaps a drunk but not for me to judge on mend. The cats got style in a way that those who wrk at it never quit tee of on.
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Ryan Rabe
(1/25/2008 2:47:00 PM) |
I think you have to be a true alcoholic to understand the intensity of this.
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Brian Heller
(11/4/2007 1:15:00 AM) |
Larry:
I'd have to argue that. There is much that needs to be described in the minute, in the every day. Do we only look at the bold and outstanding? Is that truly what we live? Hardly; we live in a world composed of the every day, and we are constantly desensitized by bold themes and ideas of grandeur. I could blame television for that, but it's really our own faults. Instead of taking the time to reflect on, or even admire, the things that go on in our life, we (as a typical whole) tend to be escapists, looking at vague outlines of things we want to exist instead.
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Larry Gorlitz
(9/22/2007 8:23:00 PM) |
I disagree...
I think what he's done here is... he's taken the mundane and just pressed the 'enter' key in the middle of sentences a few times and then called it poetry. Nothing really poetic about it at all really, other than the fact its called poetry.
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