Alone With Everybody

Two days ago my friend read this poem to me. I loved it immediately. I'd like to share it with you guys.


Alone With Everybody
Charles Bukowski 


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 junkyards fill 
the madhouses fill 
the hospitals fill 
the graveyards fill 


nothing else 
fills.