sicknick

04.23.04 - 7:06 p.m.
entry 69!

sorry, had to do it...and with that being said, in honor of my 69th entry, the following is a poem by charles bukowski entitled 'alone with everybody'...

the flesh covers the bone

and they put a mind

in there and

sometimes a soul,

and the women break

vases against the walls

and the men drink too

much

and nobody finds the

one

but they keep

looking

crawling in and out

of beds.

flesh covers

the bone and the

flesh searches

for more than

flesh.

there's no chance

at all:

we are all trapped

by a singular

fate.

nobody ever finds

the one.

the city dumps fill

the junkyards fill

the madhouses fill

the hospitals fill

the graveyards fill

nothing else

fills.

1 people had something to say

 

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