Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

CreationEarth Nature Photos


 Making love in the sun, in the morning sun
in a hotel room
above the alley
where poor men poke for bottles;
making love in the sun
making love by a carpet redder than our blood,
making love while the boys sell headlines
and Cadillacs,
making love by a photograph of Paris
and an open pack of Chesterfields,
making love while other men- poor folks-
That moment- to this.
may be years in the way they measure, but it's only one sentence back in my mind- there are so many days when living stops and pulls up and sits and waits like a train on the rails.
I pass the hotel at 8 and at 5; there are cats in the alleys and bottles and bums, and I look up at the window and think, I no longer know where you are, and I walk on and wonder where the living goes when it stops.

by Charles Bukowski
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - LayoverEmail Poem |
Comment below this ad.

Top Charles Bukowski Poems

Analysis and Comments on Layover

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Layover here.