Aug 19 2005
Belated Birthday
I totally spaced on Bukowski's birthday on Tuesday. Here's a poem he wrote on his 43rd birthday in 1963.
To end up alone
in a tomb of a room
without cigarettes
or wine--
just a lightbulb
and a potbelly,
grayhaired,
and glad to have
the room.
...in the morning
they're out there
making money:
judges, carpenters,
plumbers, doctors,
newsboys, policemen,
barbers, carwashers,
dentists, florists,
waitresses, cooks,
cabdrivers...
and you turn over
to your left side
to get the sun
on your back
and out
of your eyes.
-- Charles Bukowski
Posted by Kyle in Bukowski | Permalink
Comments
Gracias. I will now blow off work and go read Post Office start to finish.
Posted by: Castor Oil at August 24, 2005 1:38 PM
