Alone With Everybody by Charles Bukowski

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
and nobody finds the
but keep
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than

there’s no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular

nobody ever finds
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else



Well, it’s Friday, folks. Thought I’d post one of my favorite poems in leu of one of my own today. Absolutely love this one by Charles Bukowski, and a lot of his other works as well!


Here’s to hoping that your weekend’s long and your drinks are cold!

2 responses

  1. Thank you! Ahh Bukowski for the soul. Wonderful end to my week. Happy weekend to you too.

    1. He’s a treat, isn’t he? Thanks a million for reading and even more for postin’. I appreciate it 🙂

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