these same walls

mutilated again
betrayed again
fooled again

softened again
for the kill

old boy,
you’d think after
six decades
you wouldn’t be trapped again
like this.

these same walls
this same story.

it’s the lie that stinks up
these walls
and a word they use over and
over again:
love.

you have endured
in spite of their word
in spite of their ways

durability under duress is
classic.

what is wearying is the lack of
originality in the script:

same actors
same lines
same endings.

such cotton gods
such candy people

to hope for generousness
in this moil

is an irreparable
modesty.

Author
Charles Bukowski
Written
1977