the stripper with my name

50 years ago I watched the girls
shake it and stip
at The Burbank and The Follies
and it was very sad
and very dramatic
as the light turned from green to
purple to pink
and the music was loud and vibrant,
now I sit here tonight
smoking and
listening to classical
music
but I still remember some of
their names: Darlene, Candy, Jeanette
and Rosalie.
Rosalie was the
best, she knew how,
and we twisted in our seats and
made sounds
as Rosalie brought magic
to the lonely
so long ago.

now Rosalie
either so very old or
so quiet under the
earth,
this is the pimple-faced
kid
who lied about his
age
just to watch
you.

you were good, Rosalie
in 1935,
good enought to remember
now
when the light is
yellow
and the nights are
slow.

-Bukowski

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haven’t found em yet

night animal

I have never seen such an animal
except perhaps once,
but that is another story-
there it stood,
no lion
yet no dog
no deer yet deer
frozen nose
and eye, all eye gathering all the
moonlight that hung in the trees;
and everywhere the people slept;
I saw bombers over Brazil,
cathedrals choked in silk
the gray dice of Vegas,
a Van Gogh over the kitchen sink.

home, I poured a drink
took off my gloves you god damned thing
why could you have not been a woman
with all your beauty,
with all your beauty,
I have not found her yet.

-Bukowski