nothing else fills
“alone with everybody
the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and them men drink too much
and nobody finds the one
but they keep looking
crawling in and out of beds.
flesh covers the bone and the
flesh searches for more than
flesh.
there's no chance at all:
we are all trapped by a singular fate.
nobody ever finds
the one.
the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill
nothing else fills.”
the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and them men drink too much
and nobody finds the one
but they keep looking
crawling in and out of beds.
flesh covers the bone and the
flesh searches for more than
flesh.
there's no chance at all:
we are all trapped by a singular fate.
nobody ever finds
the one.
the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill
nothing else fills.”
― Charles Bukowski, Love is a Dog from Hell
