with his awful teeth - Charles Bukowski

this dog Sadness is gnawing at me
again.
I sit in this room with a big hole
chewed in my
side.
all I want are some gentle moments
to fall like soft
raindrops.
they will not arrive.
this dog Sadness is a persistent
mongrel.
he finds me so often these days,
again and again.
he is here with me now.
"go on," he growls, "write your
poem about me,
it won't make me go
away."
he's right.
I stop and look at my
wristwatch,
follow the second hand around and around.
it leads me nowhere.
I am trapped here with this sad dog.
I make small movements,
light a cigarette,
rattle a box of
paper clips.
nothing changes.
this dog of Sadness
continues to
sit here with
me,
feeding greedily.
he is getting quite
fat.
you want a pet,
my friend?
I'll give him to you right
now
along with this
poem!
if only
you would
be kind enough to
take him away,
this
Sad
dog.