waiting for death
like a cat
that will jump on the bed
I am so very sorry for
my wife she will see this
stiff white body
shake it once, then
maybe again “Hank!”
Hank won’t answer.
it’s not my death that
worries me, it’s my wife
left with this
pile of nothing. I want to
let her know though
that all the nights
sleeping beside her
even the useless arguments
were things
ever splendid
and the hard words
I ever feared to say
can now be said:
I love you.
-Confession by Charles Bukowski