Charles Bukowski

(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994 / Andernach)

Luck - Poem by Charles Bukowski

once
we were young
at this
machine...
drinking
smoking
typi ng
it was a most
splendid
miraculous
time
still
is
only now
instead of
moving toward
time
it
moves toward
us
makes each word
drill
into the
paper
clear
fast
hard
feeding a
closing
space.

Topic(s) of this poem: luck


Comments about Luck by Charles Bukowski

  • Jozef Neumann (5/5/2016 4:03:00 AM)


    This much is true, I think (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

Poem Edited: Wednesday, June 10, 2015


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