The Night I Was Going To Die by Charles Bukowski

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The Night I Was Going To Die

the night I was going to die

Charles Bukowski

Read poems about / on: night

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Oded Gurantz (8/9/2007 5:02:00 PM)
the night I was going to die

I was sweating on the bed

and I could hear the crickets

and there was a cat fight outside

and I could feel my soul dropping down through the

mattress

and just before it hit the floor I jumped up

I was almost too weak to walk

but I walked around and turned on all the lights

and then I went back to bed

and dropped it down again and

I was up

turning on all the lights

I had a 7-year-old daughter

and I felt sure she wouldn't want me dead

otherwise it wouldn't have

mattered

but all that night

nobody phoned

nobody came by with a beer

my girlfriend didn't phone

all I could hear were the crickets and it was

hot

and I kept working at it

getting up and down

until the first of the sun came through the window

through the bushes

and then I got on the bed

and the soul stayed

inside at last and

I slept.

now people come by

beating on the doors and windows

the phone rings

the phone rings again and again

I get great letters in the mail

hate letters and love letters.

everything is the same again

Tearon Uzuki (3/7/2006 11:39:00 AM)
I think it's a fantastic expression. And, for the record, Mitchell Kingsland is an idiot.

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