Charles Bukowski
The crunch
Too much too little
Too fat
Too thin
Or nobody
Laughter or
Tears
Haters
Lovers
Strangers with faces like
The backs of
Thumb tacks
Armies running through
Streets of blood
Waving winebottles
Bayoneting and fucking
Virgins
An old guy in a cheap room
With a photograph of M. Monroe
There is a loneliness in this world so great
That you can see it in the slow movement of
The hands of a clock
People so tired
Mutilated
Either by love or no love
People just are not good to each other
One on one
The rich are not good to the rich
The poor are not good to the poor
We are afraid
Our educational system tells us
That we can all be
Big-ass winners
It hasn't told us
About the gutters
Or the suicides
Or the terror of one person
Aching in one place
Alone
Untouched
Unspoken to
Watering a plant
People are not good to each other
People are not good to each other
People are not good to each other
I suppose they never will be
I don't ask them to be
But sometimes I think about
It
The beads will swing
The clouds will cloud
And the killer will behead the child
Like taking a bite out of an ice cream cone
Too much
Too little
Too fat
Too thin
Or nobody
More haters than lovers
People are not good to each other
Perhaps if they were
Our deaths would not be so sad
Meanwhile I look at young girls
Stems
Flowers of chance
There must be a way
Surely there must be a way that we have not yet
Thought of
Who put this brain inside of me?
It cries
It demands
It says that there is a chance
It will not say
"no."