I Am Visited By An Editor And A Poet Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDEFGHIJIAKCJLJMDN CCCFCNOPQRBRQSCACNTJ UNUC| I had just won from the headshakers and | A |
| was naked upon my bed | B |
| listening to an opera by one of the Italians | C |
| and had just gotten rid of a very loose lady | D |
| when there was a knock upon the wood | E |
| and since the cops had just raided a month or so ago | F |
| I screamed out rather on edge | G |
| who the hell is it what you want man | H |
| I m your publisher somebody screamed back | I |
| and I hollered I don t have a publisher | J |
| try the place next door and he screamed back | I |
| you re Charles Bukowski aren t you and I got up and | A |
| peeked through the iron grill to make sure it wasn t a cop | K |
| and I placed a robe upon my nakedness | C |
| kicked a beercan out of the way and bade them enter | J |
| an editor and a poet | L |
| only one would drink a beer the editor | J |
| so I drank two for the poet and one for myself | M |
| and they sat there sweating and watching me | D |
| and I sat there trying to explain | N |
| that I wasn t really a poet in the ordinary sense | C |
| I told them about the stockyards and the slaughterhouse | C |
| and the racetracks and the conditions of some of our jails | C |
| and the editor suddenly pulled five magazines out of a portfolio | F |
| and tossed them in between the beercans | C |
| and we talked about Flowers of Evil Rimbaud Villon | N |
| and what some of the modern poets looked like | O |
| J B May and Wolf the Hedley are very immaculate clean fingernails etc | P |
| I apologized for the beercans my beard and everything on the floor | Q |
| and pretty soon everybody was yawning | R |
| and the editor suddenly stood up and I said | B |
| are you leaving | R |
| and then the editor and the poet were walking out the door | Q |
| and then I thought well hell they might not have liked | S |
| what they saw | C |
| but I m not selling beercans and Italian opera and | A |
| torn stockings under the bed and dirty fingernails | C |
| I m selling rhyme and life and line | N |
| and I walked over and cracked a new can of beer | T |
| and I looked at the five magazines with my name on the cover | J |
| and wondered what it meant | U |
| wondered if we are writing poetry or all huddling in | N |
| one big tent | U |
| clasping assholes | C |
Charles Bukowski
(1)
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