Featured Poem: Wind the Clock

Wind the Clock by Charles Bukowski

it’s just a slow day moving into a slow night.

it doesn’t matter what you do

everything just stays the same.

the cats sleep it off, the dogs don’t

bark,

it’s just a slow day moving into a slow night.

there’s nothing even dying,

it’s just more waiting through a slow day moving

into a slow night.

you don’t even hear the water running,

the walls just stand there

and the doors don’t open.

it’s just a slow day moving into a slow night.

the rain has stopped,

you can’t hear a siren anywhere,

your wristwatch has a dead battery,

the cigarette lighter is out of fluid,

it’s just a slow day moving into a slow night,

it’s just more waiting through a slow day moving

into a slow night

like tomorrow’s never going to come

and when it does

it’ll be the same damn thing,

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