1 min read
Слушать(AI)For Jane
225 days under grassand you know more than I.they have long taken your blood,you are a dry stick in a this how it works?in this roomthe hours of love still make you leftyou took almosteverything.
I kneel in the nights before tigersthat will not let me you were will not happen tigers have found meand I do not care.
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
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
Eat Your Heart Out
I've come by, she says, to tell youthat this is it I'm not kidding, it'sover this is it I sit on the couch watching her arrangeher long red hair before my pulls her hair up andpiles it on top of her head-she lets her eyes look atmy ...
Decline
naked along the side of the house,8 a m , spreading sesame seed oilover my body, Jesus, have I cometo this
Rhyming Poem
the goldfish sing all night with guitars,and the whores go down with the stars,the whores go down with the stars I'm sorry, sir, we close at 4:30,besides your mother's neck is dirty,and the whores go down with the etc ,the whores go down...
The Crunch
too much too little too fattoo thinor nobody laughter ortears haterslovers strangers with faces likethe backs ofthumb tacks armies running throughstreets of bloodwaving winebottlesbayoneting and fuckingvirgins an old guy in a cheap roomw...