drunk and writing poems
at 3 a.m.
what counts now
is one more
tight pussy
before the light
tilts out
drunk and writing poems
at 3:15 a.m.
some people tell me that I'm
famous.
what am I doing alone
drunk and writing poems at
3:18 a.m.?
I'm as crazy as I ever was
they don't understand
that I haven't stopped hanging out of 4th floor
windows by my heels-
I still do
right now
sitting here
writing this down
I am hanging by my heels
floors up:
68, 72, 101,
the feeling is the
same:
relentless
unheroic and
necessary
sitting here
drunk and writing poems
at 3:24 a.m.
from: Love is A Dog From Hell, 1977
Copyright by Charles Bukowski