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Eulogy To A Hell Of A Dame

some dogs who sleep At nightmust dream of bonesand I remember your bonesin fleshand bestin that dark green dressand those high-heeled brightblack shoes,you always cursed when you drank,your hair coming down youwanted to explode out of what was holding you:rotten memories of a rotten past, andyou finally gotoutby dying,leaving me with therottenpresent;you've been dead28 yearsyet I remember youbetter than any ofthe rest;you were the only onewho understoodthe futility of thearrangement oflife;all the others were onlydispleased withtrivial segments,carpednonsensically aboutnonsense;

Jane, you were killed byknowing too 's a drinkto your bonesthatthis dogstilldreams about.

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Charles Bukowski

Henry Charles Bukowski (born Heinrich Karl Bukowski; August 16, 1920 – March 9, 1994) was a German-American poet, novelist, and short story writ…

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