in the shadow of the rose

branching out, grubbing down,
taking stairways down to hell,
reestablishing the vanishing
point, trying a different
bat, a different stance, alter-
ing diet and manner of
walking, readjusting the
system, photographing your
dinosaur dream,
driving your machine with
more grace and care,
noticing the flowers talking
to you,
realizing the gigantic agony
of the terrapin,
you pray for rain like an
Indian,
slide a fresh clip into the
automatic,
turn out the lights and
wait.

Author
Charles Bukowski
Written
1991
Source
Original manuscript