Henry Charles Bukowski (Генри Чарльз Буковски)

8 count

from my bed
I watch
3 birds
on a telephone
wire.
one flies
off.
then
another.
one is left,
then
it too
is gone.
my typewriter is
tombstone
still.
and I am
reduced to bird
watching.
just thought I'd
let you
know,
fucker.

1. raw with love
2. the trash men
3. oh yes
4. Одиночество со всеми • alone with everybody
5. these things

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1695

Последние стихотворения

To English version