Crucifix In A Deathhand Poem Rhyme Scheme

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yes they begin out in a willow I think	A
the starch mountains begin out in the willow	B
and keep right on going without regard for	C
pumas and nectarines	D
somehow these mountains are like	E
an old woman with a bad memory and	F
a shopping basket	G
we are in a basin that is the	H
idea down in the sand and the alleys	D
this land punched in cuffed out divided	I
held like a crucifix in a deathhand	I
this land bought resold bought again and	I
sold again the wars long over	J
the Spaniards all the way back in Spain	K
down in the thimble again and now	L
real estaters subdividers landlords freeway	M
engineers arguing this is their land and	I
I walk on it live on it a little while	N
near Hollywood here I see young men in rooms	D
listening to glazed recordings	D
and I think too of old men sick of music	O
sick of everything and death like suicide	I
I think is sometimes voluntary and to get your	C
hold on the land here it is best to return to the	H
Grand Central Market see the old Mexican women	P
the poor I am sure you have seen these same women	P
many years before	C
arguing	Q
with the same young Japanese clerks	D
witty knowledgeable and golden	P
among their soaring store of oranges apples	D
avocados tomatoes cucumbers	D
and you know how	L
these	D
look they do look good	I
as if you could eat them all	R
light a cigar and smoke away the bad world	I
then it's best to go back to the bars the same bars	D
wooden stale merciless green	S
with the young policeman walking through	T
scared and looking for trouble	U
and the beer is still bad	I
it has an edge that already mixes with vomit and	I
decay and you've got to be strong in the shadows	D
to ignore it to ignore the poor and to ignore yourself	V
and the shopping bag between your legs	D
down there feeling good with its avocados and	I
oranges and fresh fish and wine bottles who needs	D
a Fort Lauderdale winter	J
years ago there used to be a whore there	W
with a film over one eye who was too fat	I
and made little silver bells out of cigarette	I
tinfoil the sun seemed warmer then	X
although this was probably not	I
true and you take your shopping bag	Y
outside and walk along the street	I
and the green beer hangs there	W
just above your stomach like	E
a short and shameful shawl and	I
you look around and no longer	J
see any	Z
old men	X

Charles Bukowski

Crucifix In A Deathhand Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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