Trachcan Lives by Charles Bukowski

Trachcan Lives by Charles Bukowski

Trashcan Lives

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.

***

Posted in art music poetry, Charles Bukowski, Famous Poets, Poetry Posts

Bukowski Poems

8 Count
A Challenge To The Dark
A Following
A Radio With Guts
A Smile to Renember
Alone With Everybody
An Almost Made Up Poem 
And The Moon And The Stars And The World
ANOTHER BED
Another Day
Are You Drinking?
AS CRAZY AS I EVER WAS
As The Poems Go
As The Sparrow
At the track today
Back to the Machine Gun
BAD TIMES AT THE 3RD AND VERMONT HOTEL
Be Angry At San Pedro
Be Kind
BEER
Big Night On The Town
Bluebird Poem
Cause And Effect
Confession
Cows In Art Class
Cut While Shaving
Death of an idiot
Death Wants More Death
Eat Your Heart Out This is It
Flophouse
For The Foxes
Freedom  and He Drank Wine All Night
Gamblers All Not Going to Make it
God I got the sad blue blues
Grief
Hell is a Lonely Place
I don’t know what to do
I Made A Mistake
In the hospitals and jails
Love & Fame & Death
man in the sun 
My Father
My First Affair With That Older Woman
My Groupie
New Mexico
NIGHT SCHOOL
Nirvana
 On Going Back To The Street After Viewing An Art Show
Question and Answer
Rain Or Shine Vultures at the Zoo
Roll the Dice
Ruin
SHE SAID
Short Order
Show Biz
Sleep
Some People Never Go Crazy
Sparrow
THE ALIENS
The Blackbirds are Rough Today
The Great Poet
The Great Slob
The History Of One Tough Motherfucker Stray Cat Poe
The Meek Shall Inherit The Earth
The Poetry Reading
The Secret Of My Endurance

The Shower
The wind blows hard tonight
They are building a house
They found him walking along the freeway
They only burn themselves to reach Paradise
This time has finished me
THOSE GIRLS WE FOLLOWED HOME
To the whore who took my s
Traffic report
Trapped don’t undress my love mannequin
Trash can
Upon reading a critical review
Van Gogh
We Ain’t Got No Money, Honey, But We Got Rain
what i liked about e.e. cummings
Who In The Hell Is Tom Jones
Young in New Orleans