Alone With Everybody

the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh

there’s no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.

nobody ever finds
the one

the city dumps fill
the junk yards fill
the manhouses fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills

–Charles Bukowski

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4 thoughts on “Alone With Everybody

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