Charles Bukowski
690 citations

little sun little moon little dog and a little to eat and a little to love and a little to live for in a little room filled with little mice who gnaw and dance and run while I sleep waiting for a little death in the middle of a little morning in a little city in a little state my little mother dead my little father dead in a little cemetery somewhere. I have only a little time to tell you this: watch out for little death when he comes running but like all the billions of little deaths it will finally mean nothing and everything: all your little tears burning like the dove, wasted. ✨ Charles Bukowski (2009). sifting through the madness for the word, the line, the way: New Poems, p.308, Zondervan

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DeathLovePolitics

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