Here you will find the Poem Decline of poet Charles Bukowski
naked along the side of the house, 8 a.m., spreading sesame seed oil over my body, Jesus, have I come to this? I once battled in dark alleys for a laugh. now I'm not laughing. I splash myself with oil and wonder, how many years do you want? how many days? my blood is soiled and a dark angel sits in my brain. things are made of something and go to nothing. I understand the fall of cities, of nations. a small plane passes overhead. I look upward as if it made sense to look upward. it's true, the sky has rotted: it won't be long for any of us.