Bukowski And The Rain

Sometimes,
you find some relief
in reading Bukowski
while listening
to the simple music of rain,
how it keeps falling
unmanned, purposeless,
and yes, the years still
stab you in the dark
and no amount of cake
will sweeten the pain
of waking up again
wondering how the hell
are the others able
to stand still while
the world spins
like a mad dervish
but, for now,
the rain will do
and so will Bukowski.