By Charles Bukowski
the wind blows hard tonight
and it's a cold wind
and I think about
the boys on the row.
I hope some of them have a bottle of
red.
it's when you're on the row
that you notice that
everything
is owned
and that there are locks on
everything.
this is the way a democracy
works:
you get what you can,
try to keep that
and add to it
if possible.
this is the way a dictatorship
works too
only they either enslave or
destroy their
derelicts.
we just forgot ours.
in either case
it's a hard
cold
wind.
Bukowski (RIP 1920 - 1994) published this poem in 1986 in his book "You Get So Alone at Times That It Just Makes Sense." Both the poem and my mood leave me little more to say today. Other than I hope you might read and reflect as best you can. In my experience, this poem will make much too good of sense if you have spent real time with the downtrodden, the sick, the oppressed or the grieved. If you have not had much of these opportunities, there is great need everywhere and I hope none of us can forget that.
Comments