Poem by Henry Charles Bukowski

Rhyming Poem

the goldfish sing all night with guitars,
and the whores go down with the stars,
the whores go down with the stars
I'm sorry, sir, we close at 4:30,
besides your mother's neck is dirty,
and the whores go down with the etc.,
the whores. go down. with the etc.
I'm sorry jack you can't come back,
I've fallen in love with another sap,
34 Italian and 1 2 Jap,
and the whores go
the whores go
etc. 

1. Having the Flu and with Nothing Else to Do
2. Small Conversation in the Afternoon with John Fante
3. decline
4. poetry readings
5. these things

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