the way the old dog walked
with dotted, tired fur
down nobody’s alley
being nobody’s dog…
past the empty vodka bottles
past the peanut butter jars,
with wires full of electricity
and the birds asleep somewhere,
down the alley he went –
nobody’s dog
moving through it all,
brave as any army.


from the book “The Continual Condition” by Charles Bukowski (Ecco, an Imprint of HarperCollins Publishers)
Copyright 2009 by Linda Lee Bukowski
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