Charles Bukowski is my favourite poet in English language (if I leave appart John Donne, Shakespeare, Allen Ginsberg...).

Actually Bukowski's poems are famous because of their irreverence regarding established moral, specially with sex and relationships. However, what I like the most about him is the way he expresses the poetry of everyday little details.

The end of this poem is thought-provoking: before the last idea he tells about the suicide as though it was an act of mercy, for oneself or for another person. But the most interesting part is the end because he comes back to the ordinary life that he is living at the hospital which indeed is not as unmeaningful as we could think...

Daniel Margarit