Henry Charles Bukowski

palm leaves

at exactly 12:00 midnight 
1973-74 
Los Angeles 
it began to rain on the 
palm leaves outside my window 
the horns and firecrackers 
went off 
and it thundered. 

I'd gone to bed at 9 p.m. 
turned out the lights 
pulled up the covers - 
their gaiety, their happiness, 
their screams, their paper hats, 
their automobiles, their women, 
their amateur drunks... 

New Year's Eve always terrifies 
me 

life knows nothing of years. 

now the horns have stopped and 
the firecrackers and the thunder... 
it's all over in five minutes... 
all I hear is the rain 
on the palm leaves, 
and I think, 
I will never understand men, 
but I have lived 
it through.