9 a.m.

blazing as a fort blazes
or the first impromptu notes
against a brisk cabbage,
fucking sunlight
goosing roses, fooling ducks,
foul betrayer
breaking through kisses and perfume and nylon,
showing a city of broken teeth
and insane laws,
bringing an alley turd to the eye,
this Rubyiat, this diamond, aye,
and beside my palm
a small sore
berry-red
that even Christ w’d n’t ignore,
and the ladies pass
shifting their rotted gears;
and peppermint fences and spoiled dogs;
blazing as something
you burn only grass, you
give us apples and whores
but
you are still splendid as a broken movie
going on,
I can see through your eyes
when I was young
when I walked in gold
when rivers had mirrors
and there was no end.

Author
Charles Bukowski
This poem appeared in the following books: