in the cupboard sits my bottlelike a dwarf waiting to scratch out my prayers. I drink and cough like some idiot at a symphony, sunlight and maddened birds are everywhere, the phone rings gamboling its soundagainst the odds of the crooked sea; I drink deeply and evenly now, I drink to paradiseand deathand the lie of love.
Charles BukowskiAbout author
- Author's profession: Author, Writer, Poet
- Nationality: american
- Born: August 16, 1920
- Died: March 9, 1994