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Charles Bukowski - Consummation Of Grief

I even hear the mountains
the way they laugh
up and down their blue sides
and down in the water
the fish cry
and the water 
is their tears.
I listen to the water
on nights I drink away
and the sadness becomes so great
I hear it in my clock
it becomes knobs upon my dresser
it becomes paper on the floor
it becomes a shoehorn
a laundry ticket
it becomes
cigarette smoke
climbing a chapel of dark vines. . .
it matters little
very little love is not so bad
or very little life
what counts
is waiting on walls
I was born for this
I was born to hustle roses down the avenues of the dead.

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Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 1804 times | Comments and analysis of Consummation Of Grief by Charles Bukowski Comments (4)

Consummation Of Grief - Comments and Information

Poet: Charles Bukowski
Poem: Consummation Of Grief
Poem of the Day: Jan 14 2006

Comment 4 of 4, added on March 1st, 2016 at 5:11 AM.
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4rGfUY when new comments are added- checkbox and from now on whenever a comment is added I get four

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Comment 3 of 4, added on January 1st, 2016 at 12:57 AM.
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Comment 2 of 4, added on July 18th, 2014 at 4:50 AM.
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6WbxuC Thank you ever so for you post.Really thank you! Really Great.

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