and there’s going to be an encore
and there’s going to be an encore
and there’s going to be another encore
you’ll like it
you’ll applaud
you’ll whistle
you’ll stomp your feet
you won’t want it to ever end
as the city of Paris burns
as Charlie Chaplin movies are played in Peking
as your wife sucks-off a 400 pound hog
as the earth worm crawls through the left eye socket of
as the drunk smashes through the railing by the cliff by the
as the small inner-hands crush your brain toward
as the clown pukes beneath the grease paint of flaccid
there’s going to be an encore
the train will run right off the land and into the moiling
         quicksand and shriveled
as the artillery shell explodes the Mexican jumping
there’s going to be another encore
as you weep over a photograph of your dead mother who put
         you in the
         god damned fix–
old Pop came like slimey dove excretion as
the Spanish bull lowered its head and took the guts out of


we can’t get enough
as the conductor asks the orchestra to stand
Mickey Mouse jacks-off
flying fish bank right and left
as the graveyards fill

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I want to bring all of Bukowski's poems online and make then freely available. This means hundreds of hours of work to retype over 1,000 of his poems from the original manuscripts. Your donations will help support this work.