Poem of the Day – Charles Bukowski

To The Whore Who Took My Poems

some say we should keep personal remorse from the
poem,
stay abstract, and there is some reason in this,
but jezus;
twelve poems gone and I don't keep carbons and you have
my
paintings too, my best ones; its stifling:
are you trying to crush me out like the rest of them?
why didn't you take my money? they usually do
from the sleeping drunken pants sick in the corner.
next time take my left arm or a fifty
but not my poems:
I'm not Shakespeare
but sometime simply
there won't be any more, abstract or otherwise;
there'll always be mony and whores and drunkards
down to the last bomb,
but as God said,
crossing his legs,
I see where I have made plenty of poets
but not so very much
poetry.

-Charles Bukowski

Unfortunately, I don’t have a lot of time to post today. I’ve been overwhelmed with my course load, and for some reason, my teachers have seen it fit to give me midterms early. I got a lot of good writing in today, though. I’m working on a poem, which I’ll post up here as soon as possible.

Anyway, I love this poem. Charles B. poems always have the most interesting, easily accessible, subject matter. “A Programme of literature for the common man,” as Wordsworth might say. Enjoy.

God Save the Books,
C. Harder