The Crunch(2) by Charles Bukowski
too much
too little
or too late
too fat
too thin
or too bad
laughter or
tears
or immaculate
unconcern
haters
lovers
armies running through streets of pain
waving wine bottles
bayoneting and fucking everyone
or an old guy in a cheap quiet room
with a photograph of Marilyn Monroe.
there is a loneliness in this world so great
that you can see it in the slow movement of
a clock’s hands.
there is a loneliness in this world so great
that you can see it in blinking neon
in Vegas, in Baltimore, in Munich.
people are tired
strafed by life
mutilated either by love or no
love.
we don’t need new governments
new revolutions
we don’t need new men
new women
we don’t need new ways
we just need to care.
people are not good to each other
one on one.
people are just not good to each other.
we are afraid.
we think that hatred signifies
strength.
that punishment is
love.
what we need is less false education
what we need are fewer rules
fewer policce
and more good teachers.
we forget the terror of one person
aching in one room
alone
unkissed
untouched
cut off
watering a plant alone
without a telephone that would never
ring
anyway.
people are not good to each other
people are not good to each other
people are not good to each other
and the beads swing and the clouds obscure
and dogs piss upon rose bushes
the killer beheads the child like taking a bite
out of an ice cream cone
while the ocean comes in and goes out
in and out
in the thrall of a senseless moon.
and people are not good to each other.
