275 steps from Hollywood

the windows in the dark
and gas stations in neon,
and up there
the hills
the rich stallions
the beautiful mares
go it
a while
as I listen to Donizetti
who died in 1797,
and there is nothing to smoke
but enough to drink
and I have changed the sheets
which are red as fire
and realize
that I must die.

Donizetti goes on,
the hills goes on
I pour another

Charles Bukowski
This poem appeared in the following books: