Alone With Everybody

If you must know, I am most definitely not depressed.

But you know what? There are days for writing, and then there are days for reading Bukowski.

*

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.

Charles Bukowski

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