D. (dalaruan) wrote,
D.
dalaruan

"I knew it would be you," she said

eulogy to a hell of a dame

some dogs who sleep at night
must dream of bones
and I remember your bones
in flesh
and best
in that dark green dress
and those high-heeled bright
black shoes,
you always cursed when you drank,
your hair coming down you
wanted to explode out of
what was holding you:
rotten memories of a
rotten
past, and
you finally got
out
by dying,
leaving me with the
rotten
present;
you've been dead
28 years
yet I remember you
better than any of
the rest;
you were the only one
who understood
the futility of the
arrangement of
life;
all the others were only
displeased with
trivial segments,
carped
nonsensically about
nonsense;
Jane, you were
killed by
knowing too much.
here's a drink
to your bones
that
this dog
still
dreams about.

Charles Bukowski


Tags: death, love that killing field
Subscribe

  • a rebours

    Ich mach ein Lied aus Stille. Ich mach ein Lied aus Licht. So geh ich in den Winter. Und so vergeh ich nicht. Eva Strittmatter, Vor einem Winter…

  • 24 years now...

    ...and I still miss you. But I see your smile when I look in the mirror. Anne, with her father is out in the boat Riding the water Riding…

  • get a.head

    And when that happens, I know it. A message saying so merely confirms a piece of news some secret vein had already received, severing from me an…

  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 0 comments