“To The Whore Who Took My Poems” By Charles Bukowski March 25, 2008
Posted by Rodger Jacobs in Uncategorized.Tags: Bukowski, poems, poetry, writers, writing
trackback
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 money 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.

my favorite line:
but as God said,
crossing his legs,
and the last three lines could apply to blog land
Good eye, Scot. Those last lines are what attracted me to the poem.
That’s probably also going to be a good description of Rodger’s in-box for the next few months.
Oh this is so very good. I just bought The Pleasures of the Damned and am really enjoying it. The last three lines are superb.
I think it’s the finest Bukowski poem I ever read, Jo.