Charles Bukowski

Now

Black Sparrow "New Year's Greeting" 1992

I sit here on the 2nd floor Hunched over in yellow pajamas, Still pretending to be a writer. Some damned gall, at 71, My brain cells eaten away by life. Rows of books behind me, I scratch my thinning hair And search for the word. For decades now, I have infuriated the ladies, the critics, The university suck-toads. They all will soon have their time to celebrate. "Terribly overrated..." "Gross..." "An aberration..." My hands sink into the keyboard Of my Macintosh, It's the same old con That scraped me off the streets and park benches, The same simple line I learned in those cheap rooms. I can't let go, sitting here On this 2nd floor Hunched over in yellow pajamas, Still pretending to be a writer. The gods smile down, The gods smile down, The gods smile down.

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