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sifting through the madness for the word, the line, the way: New Poems

Book by Charles Bukowski · 17 quotes · Bursting Out, Ifs, Burning

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AllBursting OutIfsBurningBurstingGutsHeartLittlesMiddleRunningSpiteSunAgain And AgainAirArtArt IsAshesBillionsCapitalismCapitalistCash

sifting through the madness for the word, the line, the way: New Poems Quotes

“the last cigarettes are smoked, the loaves are sliced, and lest this be taken for wry sorrow, drown the spider in wine. you are much more than simply dead: I am a dish for your ashes, I am a fist for your vanished air. the most terrible thing about life is finding it gone.”

LastsLife IsGoneTakenAirTerribleSorrowFindingsWineAshesCigaretteDishesFistsSpidersTerrible ThingsWry
Book:sifting through the madness for the word, the line, the way: New Poems
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“little sun little moon little dog and a little to eat and a little to love and a little to live for in a little room filled with little mice who gnaw and dance and run while I sleep waiting for a little death in the middle of a little morning in a little city in a little state my little mother dead my little father dead in a little cemetery somewhere. I have only a little time to tell you this: watch out for little death when he comes running but like all the billions of little deaths it will finally mean nothing and everything: all your little tears burning like the dove, wasted.”

MeanLittlesStatesRunningMotherFatherWaitingSleepRoomsCitiesWatchesMorningSunMiddleDogTearsMoonFilledBillionsBurningMiceDoveCemeteryLittle Time
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“nobody can save you but yourself. you will be put again and again into nearly impossible situations. they will attempt again and again through subterfuge, guise and force to make you submit, quit and/or die quietly inside. nobody can save you but yourself”

DiesForceSituationImpossibleQuittingSubmitAgain And AgainGuiseSubterfugeImpossible Situations
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“You think of killing him on the spot but discard that thought and leave, down into the urine-stinking elevator, they have you crucified too, America at work, where they rip out your intestines and your brain and your will and your spirit. They suck you dry, then throw you away. The capitalist system. The work ethic. The profit motive. The memory of your father’s words, “work hard and you’ll be appreciated.” of course, only if you make much more for them than they pay you.”

WorkCapitalismProfitCapitalistWork EthicWorking Poor
Book:sifting through the madness for the word, the line, the way: New Poems
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