Here I Am ... Poem by Charles Bukowski

Here I Am ...

Rating: 2.9


drunk again at 3 a.m. at the end of my 2nd bottle
of wine, I have typed from a dozen to 15 pages of
poesy
an old man
maddened for the flesh of young girls in this
dwindling twilight
liver gone
kidneys going
pancrea pooped
top-floor blood pressure

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Phil M. 25 October 2018

Always something to enjoy in Bukowski’s utter bleakness....

0 0 Reply
Bas Janssen 19 January 2017

drunk again at 3 a.m. at the end of my 2nd bottle of wine, I have typed from a dozen to 15 pages of poesy an old man maddened for the flesh of young girls in this dwindling twilight liver gone kidneys going pancrea pooped top-floor blood pressure while all the fear of the wasted years laughs between my toes no woman will live with me no Florence Nightingale to watch the Johnny Carson show with if I have a stroke I will lay here for six days, my three cats hungrily ripping the flesh from my elbows, wrists, head the radio playing classical music... I promised myself never to write old man poems but this one's funny, you see, excusable, be- cause I've long gone past using myself and there's still more left here at 3 a.m. I am going to take this sheet from the typer pour another glass and insert make love to the fresh new whiteness maybe get lucky again first for me later for you.

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