tonight

“your poem about the girls will still be around
50 years from now when the girls are gone,”
my editor phones me.


dear editor:
the girls appear to be gone
already.

I know what you mean

but give me one truly alive woman
tonight
walking across the floor toward me

and you can have all the poems

the good ones
the bad ones
or any that I might write
after this one.

I know what you mean.

do you know what I mean?

Author
Charles Bukowski
Written
1976
Source
Original manuscript