Bluebird by Charles Bukowski

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out but
I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see you.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out but
I pour whiskey on him and inhale cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks never know that
he's in there.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay down,
do you want to mess me up?
you want to screw up the works?
you want to blow my book sales in Europe?

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out but I'm too clever,
I only let him out at night sometimes

when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be sad.


then I put him back,
but he's singing a little in there,
I haven't quite let him die
and we sleep together like that
with our secret pact and it's nice enough
to make a man weep, but I don't weep, do you?




P.S. This was published in Bukowski's book "The Last Night of the Earth Poems" circa 1992