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Bluebird

there's a bluebird in my heart thatwants to get outbut I'm too tough for him,

I say, stay in there,

I'm not goingto let anybody seeyou.there's a bluebird in my heart thatwants to get outbut I pour whiskey on him and inhalecigarette smokeand the whores and the bartendersand the grocery clerksnever know thathe'sin there.there's a bluebird in my heart thatwants to get outbut I'm too tough for him,

I say,stay down, do you want to messme up?you want to screw up theworks?you want to blow my book sales

Europe?there's a bluebird in my heart thatwants to get outbut I'm too clever,

I only let him outat night sometimeswhen everybody's asleep.

I say,

I know that you're there,so don't I put him back,but he's singing a littlein there,

I haven't quite let himdieand we sleep together likethatwith oursecret pactand it's nice enough tomake a manweep, but I don'tweep, doyou?

This was published in Bukowski's book "The Last Night of the Earth Poems" circa 1992

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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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