Charles Bukowski

(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994 / Andernach)

The Last Days Of The Suicide Kid - Poem by Charles Bukowski

I can see myself now
after all these suicide days and nights,
being wheeled out of one of those sterile rest homes
(of course, this is only if I get famous and lucky)
by a subnormal and bored nurse
there I am sitting upright in my wheelchair
almost blind, eyes rolling backward into the dark part of my skull
looking
for the mercy of death
Isn't it a lovely day, Mr. Bukowski
O, yeah, yeah
the children walk past and I don't even exist
and lovely women walk by
with big hot hips
and warm buttocks and tight hot everything
praying to be loved
and I don't even
exist
It's the first sunlight we've had in 3 days,
Mr. Bukowski.
Oh, yeah, yeah.
there I am sitting upright in my wheelchair,
myself whiter than this sheet of paper,
bloodless,
brain gone, gamble gone, me, Bukowski,
gone
Isn't it a lovely day, Mr. Bukowski
O, yeah, yeah pissing in my pajamas, slop drooling out of
my mouth.
2 young schoolboys run by —
Hey, did you see that old guy
Christ, yes, he made me sick!
after all the threats to do so
somebody else has committed suicide for me
at last.
the nurse stops the wheelchair, breaks a rose from a nearby bush,
puts it in my hand.
I don't even know
what it is. it might as well be my pecker
for all the good
it does.

Topic(s) of this poem: suicide


Comments about The Last Days Of The Suicide Kid by Charles Bukowski

  • Michael Walker (10/23/2019 9:42:00 PM)

    I would not like to end up in 'a sterile rest home' and so far I haven't.
    'Suicide' is a strong word, but it mirrors his fears. The wheelchair is another fear.
    (Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • (3/21/2018 10:01:00 AM)

    My God, this is exactly what I fear. I led a life of partying from noon till close most days of the week with beautiful, beautiful women. Juke box cranked up, bartenders making sure there were two open seats when we came in. No memory of getting home, hangovers became the norm. God this poem haunts. (Report)Reply

    3 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • (4/23/2016 7:14:00 PM)

    ..........a great write, my favorite line ★ Isn't it a lovely day, Mr. Bukowski (Report)Reply

    3 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Mark Arvizu (9/14/2015 9:32:00 AM)

    Wine is fine but whiskey's quicker-John Osborne (Report)Reply

    (12/30/2017 5:42:00 PM)

    It's liquor's quicker

    6 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
Read all 5 comments »



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


Poem Submitted: Wednesday, January 14, 2015



[Report Error]