Saturday, 12 May 2012

Eulogy To A Hell Of A Dame by Bukowski

some dogs who sleep at night / must dream of bones / and I remember your bones in flesh / and best in that dark green dress / and those high-heeled bright black shoes, you always cursed when you drank / your hair coming down / you wanted to explode out of what was holding you: rotten memories of a rotten past / and you finally got out by dying / leaving me with the rotten present / you've been dead 28 years / yet I remember you better than any of the rest / you were the only one who understood the futility of the arrangement of life / all the others were only displeased with trivial segments / carped nonsensically about nonsense / Jane, you were killed by knowing too much. here's a drink to your bones / that this dog still dreams about. 

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