the way it is

everything eventually becomes less and
less, the people and the
actuality;
even less becomes less
and loss becomes
normal.

there is finally
no place to go
no place to hide
no place to be
among these–
our human counterparts.

what we first noticed as the
decay of the father
has spread to
the decay of the friend
the decay of the meaning of
love.

we never expected much
but we never foresaw
so little.

our sadness is not for the
self,
our sadness is for the
incomplete dream
which drove them to
smallness
to madness.

how crude they were with the
chance,
how rude with the
happening.

such graceless cowardice
such as
not even attended to the
worn

it made them take almost
nothing
and make it
worse

these–
our human counterparts.

Author
Charles Bukowski
Written
1985
Source
Original manuscript