a thoughtful web.
Good ideas and conversation. No ads, no tracking.   Login or Take a Tour!
comment
Meriadoc  ·  3897 days ago  ·  link  ·    ·  parent  ·  post: After Bukowski

in a similar vein, my favorite Bukowski poem was a good description of a lot of the addiction and madness and depression and isolation I saw in a lot of my friends back around 2010, and some in myself as well. Some people had it from drugs, others from abuse, others from just fucked up brain chemistry. It resonated with all of us:

                                 Alone with Everybody by Charles Bukowski
     

     

     

                                 the flesh covers the bone 

                                 and they put a mind 

                                 in there and 

                                 sometimes a soul, 

                                 and the women break 

                                 vases against the walls 

                                 and the men drink too 

                                 much 

                                 and nobody finds the 

                                 one 

                                 but keep 

                                 looking 

                                 crawling in and out 

                                 of beds. 

                                 flesh covers 

                                 the bone and the 

                                 flesh searches 

                                 for more than 

                                 flesh. 

                                 
                                 there's no chance 

                                 at all: 

                                 we are all trapped 

                                 by a singular 

                                 fate. 

                                 

                                 nobody ever finds 

                                 the one. 

                                 

                                 the city dumps fill 

                                 the junkyards fill 

                                 the madhouses fill 

                                 the hospitals fill 

                                 the graveyards fill 

                                 

                                 nothing else 

                                 fills.