Charles Bukowski

(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994 / Andernach)

Now

Poem by Charles Bukowski

I sit here on the 2nd floor
hunched over in yellow
pajamas
still pretending to be
a writer.
some damned gall,
at 71,
my brain cells eaten
away by
life.
rows of books
behind me,
I scratch my thinning
hair
and search for the
word.


Comments about Now by Charles Bukowski

There is no comment submitted by members..
Now Score Card

User Rating:
3,0 / 5 (67 votes)0



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: hair, life



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003