Melancholia Poem by Charles Bukowski

Melancholia

Rating: 2.9


the history of melancholia
includes all of us.

me, I writhe in dirty sheets
while staring at blue walls
and nothing.

I have gotten so used to melancholia
that
I greet it like an old
friend.

I will now do 15 minutes of grieving
for the lost redhead,
I tell the gods.

I do it and feel quite bad
quite sad,
then I rise
CLEANSED
even though nothing
is solved.

that’s what I get for kicking
religion in the ass.

I should have kicked the redhead
in the ass
where her brains and her bread and
butter are
at …

but, no, I’ve felt sad
about everything:
the lost redhead was just another
smash in a lifelong
loss …

I listen to drums on the radio now
and grin.
there is something wrong with me
besides
melancholia.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Julien Stricher 04 October 2009

it speaks to me.. every word of it.

6 0 Reply
Lilah Weiss 28 March 2006

true words, pure genius.

6 0 Reply
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