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Charles Bukowski

Working Out

Van Gogh cut off his ear
gave it to a
prostitute
who flung it away in
extreme
disgust.
Van, whores don’t want
ears
they want
money.
I guess that’s why you were
such a great
painter: you
didn’t understand
much
else.

#AmericanWriters

Autres oeuvres par Charles Bukowski ...
Trollius and trellises

of course, I may die in the next t… and I’m ready for that but what I’m really worried about… that my editor—publisher might ret… even though he is ten years younge…
Cut While Shaving

It’s never quite right, he said, t… the way the music sounds, the way… written. It’s never quite right, he said, a… taught, all the loves we chase, al…
 1
2 Flies

The flies are angry bits of life; why are they so angry? it seems they want more, it seems almost as if they are angry
Melancholia

the history of melancholia includes all of us. me, I writhe in dirty sheets while staring at blue walls and nothing.
 1
 2
Metamorphosis

a girlfriend came in built me a bed scrubbed and waxed the kitchen flo… scrubbed the walls vacuumed
Crucifix in a Death Hand

yes, they begin out in a willow, I… the starch mountains begin out in… and keep right on going without re… pumas and nectarines somehow these mountains are like
The Shower

we like to shower afterwards (I like the water hotter than she) and her face is always soft and pe… and she’ll wash me first spread the soap over my balls
 2
Question and Answer

he sat naked and drunk in a room o… night, running the blade of the kn… under his fingernails, smiling, th… of all the letters he had received telling him that
 3
 2
Alone With Everybody

the flesh covers the bone and they put a mind in there and sometimes a soul, and the women break
 1
 10
For Jane: With All the Love I Had, Which Was Not Enough:

I pick up the skirt, I pick up the sparkling beads in black, this thing that moved once around flesh,
my comrades

this one teaches that one lives with his mother and that one is supported by a red… with the brain of a gnat. this one takes speed and has been…
Are You Drinking?

washed—up, on shore, the old yello… out again I write from the bed as I did last year.
Whats the Use of a Title?

They don’t make it the beautiful die in flame— suicide pills, rat poison, rope wh… ever... they rip their arms off,
 1
The Japanese Wife

O lord, he said, Japanese women, real women, they have not forgotte… bowing and smiling closing the wounds men have made; but American women will kill you l…
Confession

waiting for death like a cat that will jump on the bed I am so very sorry for
 5



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