Poem by Henry Charles Bukowski

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. The Aliens
2. how is your heart?
3. a challenge to the dark
4. luck
5. the history of one tough motherfucker

Print

1768 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version