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More poems by Charles BukowskiCharles Bukowski | Print this page.Print | Order a PoetryNotes Analysis of this poem.Analysis | View and Write CommentsComments (1)

Sleep

Charles Bukowski

she was a short one
getting fat and she had once been
beautiful and
she drank the wine
she drank the wine in bed and
talked and screamed and cursed at
me
and i told her

please, I need some
sleep.

-sleep? sleep? ya son of a
bitch, ya never sleep, ya
don't need any
sleep!

I buried her one morning early
I carried her down the sides of the Hollywood Hills
brambles and rabbits and rocks
running in front of me
and by the time I'd dug the ditch
and stuck her in
belly down
and put the dirt back on
the sun was up and it was warm
and the flies were lazy and
I could hardly see anything out of my eyes
everything was so
warm and yellow.

I managed to drive home and I got into bed and I
slept for 5 days and 4
nights.

from "poems written before jumping out of an 8 story window" - 1966

Added: 14 Aug 2001 | Last Read: 23 Jul 2008 8:31 PM | Viewed: 7222 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/184/ | Viewed on 23 July 2008.
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