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Motto: „ they are all elsewhere/ examining things/ in new bedrooms/” – Charles Bukowski – Praying for rainy days

**** Bukowski
thinks that’s a supraestimated fake
for townsends of years
„ harder than The Riots of Watts”
and it’s not about *****

it’s too precoius and delicate
and it’s not about women
'couse the women *** with roses
or with the spine-birds
and still gets payed on the job

it’s all about poetry
it’s about that funny slaughterhouse
in wich we kick eachothers stupide ***
like some real lovers
and then we rearange our underwear
or what’s left of it

it’s all about  a load of **** good to be throwned at the garbage
'couse – don't mention it – there is nothing heroical
and every ****** thing is a makeup
there is just a mouse shiverring in a corner
two ugly frogs are hugging all what is left of the sun
and above all
the monkey is trying hard to improvise a tired smile

**** Bukowski
I don't know a living soul with such a perseveration
to ****-up his poems
like his money on horse-races
like his fat’n’ugly mexican ******
and still somehow to become his own hero
insane like this
born into this
and becouse he had lived to much like a dog

alone with the whole world
with it’s ******* **** beauty
in wich actualy nobudy finds his mate

in wich everything it’s just a canibalistic clown
and a childish cry
almoust painfully dead
from his own laughter
Jay Jimenez Aug 2011
she grasped her daddys hand as they walked
daddy told daughter that he loved her and he'll try and call her everyday
he said make sure when im gone you send me a photo on your birthday
send me a picture when you do something great
and please please dont give your mommy to much trouble
she promised daddy and they gave their secret handshake
well daddy told daughter you cant follow me no longer
daughter cryed
daddy wiped each falling tear from her eyes
each were like a torpedo hitting his already sinking ship
he the the fear in his daughters clinched fists
her shiverring lips
he hates to put her through with this ****
he curses god in his head
and his feet feel like his dragging a bag full of led
as the handcuffs get locked on
and the door shuts behind him
he knows that he will never see his daughter running in the grassy meadow they once played in
he knows he will never get to lay around and eat candy and watch cartoons till they both got yelled at mom to get ready
his hearts so heavy
he should've never went out on that night
he should've never put the key in the car and drove
because hes not the only one feeling like this
theres another man
that will never get to do the same things with his daughter

— The End —