* Charles Bukowski The Haiku Poet
J
john tiong chunghoo
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the flesh covers the bone
they put a mind in there
and sometimes a soul
the women break vases
the men
drink too much
nobody really finds one
but keep looking
crawling in and out of beds
flesh covers the bone
and the flesh searches for
more than flesh
no chance
we - trapped - by
a singular fate
the city dumps fill
the graveyards fill
nothing else fills
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