National Poetry Month

[brigdh]

For Jane by Charles Bukowski

225 days under grass
and you know more than I.
they have long taken your blood,
you are a dry stick in a basket.
is this how it works?
in this room
the hours of love
still make shadows.

when you left
you took almost
everything.
I kneel in the nights
before tigers
that will not let me be.

what you were
will not happen again.
the tigers have found me
and I do not care.

Comments

[rachel2205.livejournal.com]

Ooh, I like this. I dislike Bukowski's prose, but this is surprisingly tender.

[wordsofastory.livejournal.com]

I haven't actually read almost anything by Bukowski, because what I know of him makes me think I'd really spectacularly bounce off it, but I saw this posted somewhere and it just grabbed me.

[marzipan-pig.livejournal.com]

I don't usually like Buk either but

What you are
Will never happen again
The tigers have found me
I do not care