Charles Bukowski


in the winter on my ceiling my eyes the size of street- lamps. I have 4 feet like a mouse but wash my own underwear-bearded and hungover and a hard-on and no lawyer. I have a face like a washrag. I sing love songs and carry steel. I would rather die than cry. I can't stand hounds can't live without them. I hang my head against the white refrigerator and want to scream like the last weeping of life forever but I am bigger then the mountains.

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