ALONE WITH EVERYBODY BY CHARLES BUKOWSKI

ALONE WITH EVERYBODY BY 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.

 

DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD BY DYLAN THOMAS

DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD BY DYLAN THOMAS

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

 

I CANNOT GO TO SCHOOL TODAY BY SHEL SILVERSTEIN

I CANNOT GO TO SCHOOL TODAY 

BY SHEL SILVERSTEIN 

“I cannot go to school today," 

Said little Peggy Ann McKay. 

“I have the measles and the mumps, 

A gash, a rash and purple bumps. 

My mouth is wet, my throat is dry, 

I’m going blind in my right eye. 

My tonsils are as big as rocks, 

I’ve counted sixteen chicken pox 

And there’s one more--that’s seventeen, 

And don’t you think my face looks green? 

My leg is cut--my eyes are blue-- 

It might be instamatic flu. 

I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke, 

I’m sure that my left leg is broke-- 

My hip hurts when I move my chin, 

My belly button’s caving in, 

My back is wrenched, my ankle’s sprained, 

My ‘pendix pains each time it rains. 

My nose is cold, my toes are numb. 

I have a sliver in my thumb. 

My neck is stiff, my voice is weak, 

I hardly whisper when I speak. 

My tongue is filling up my mouth, 

I think my hair is falling out. 

My elbow’s bent, my spine ain’t straight, 

My temperature is one-o-eight. 

My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear, 

There is a hole inside my ear. 

I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what? 

What’s that? What’s that you say? 

You say today is. . .Saturday? 

G’bye, I’m going out to play!”