the 2nd. novel

they’d come around and
they’d ask,
“You finished your
2nd. novel yet?”

“No.”

“Whatsamatta?   Whatsamatta
that you can’t
finish it?”

“Haemorrhoids and
insomnia.”

“Maybe you’ve lost
it?”

“Lost what?”

“You know.”



now when they come
around I tell them,
“Yeh.   I finished
it. Be out in Sept.”

“You finished it?”

“Yeh.”

“Well, listen, I gotta
go.”

even the cat
here   in the courtyard
won’t come to my door
anymore.

it’s nice.

Like this website? Support it.
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.