Luck Poem by Charles Bukowski
Luck
Rating: ★2.8
once
we were young
at this
machine...
drinking
smoking
typing
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.
Monday, January 13, 2003
Topic(s) of this poem: luck
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4/18/2024 12:03:51 AM # 1.0.0.1119
into the paper clear fast hard feeding a closing space. a very good poem- tony