Charles Bukowski Poems

drunk on the dark streets of some city,
it's night, you're lost, where's your
room?
you enter a bar to find yourself,
...

at one stage in my life
I met a man who claimed to have
visited Pound at St. Elizabeths.
...

The flies are angry bits of life;
why are they so angry?
it seems they want more,
it seems almost as if they
...

little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
...

when God created love he didn't help most
when God created dogs He didn't help dogs
when God created plants that was average
when God created hate we had a standard utility
...

good weather
is like
good women-
it doesn't always happen
...

Sunday, I am eating a
grapefruit, church is over at the Russian
Orthadox to the
west.
...

I've come by, she says, to tell you
that this is it. I'm not kidding, it's
over. this is it.
I sit on the couch watching her arrange
...

some dogs who sleep At night
must dream of bones
and I remember your bones
in flesh
...