Alone With Everybody

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.


Anonymous submission.

by Charles Bukowski

Comments (5)

Absolutely delightful. I love the way your pulled us in from the mundane to the mythical world with the greatest of ease.
I agree with Raynette Eitel. So good, such a whimsical poem. I always love the titles you give your poems.
Great description of Hathor, Peter. This is so funny and whimsical. Thanks for sharing. Raynette
I don't understand this one Peter. Who or what is Hathor? Pardon my ignorance.
This had me in fits of laughter...I'm sorry, but your poetry just hits the right spot with me! !