Poem for My Daughter

A friend mentioned that she loved Charles Bukowski’s poetry. I’ve never been that fond of him myself, but this is one poem of his I liked and saved:

Poem for My Daughter

My girl is 8
and that is old enough
to know better or worse
or anything.
so I relax around her
and hear various
astounding things
about sex
life in general
and life in particular.
mostly it’s very easy
except I became a father
when most men
became grandfathers.I am a very late starter
in everything.
and I stretch on the grass
and sand and she rips
dandelions up
and places them
in my hair
while I doze
in the sea breeze.
and I awaken, shake,
say, ‘what the hell?’
and flowers fall over
my eyes and my nose
and over my lips.
I brush them away
and she sits
above me, giggling.
daughter, right or wrong,
I do love you
it’s only that sometimes
I act as if
you weren’t there,
but there have been
fights with women
notes left on dressers
factory jobs
flat tires in Compton
at 3 am
all those things
that keep people
from knowing each other
and worse than that.
thanks for the flowers.

Charles Bukowski

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *