The Singular Fate of Flesh

A poem by Charles Bukowski

Art: Flesh Covers the Bone by Elena Voss

Music: Empty City at 3 AM by Henry Ross

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 the men drink too much and nobody finds the one but 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.

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