Charles Bukowski is my favorite poet. I'm glad to see a question about him. the crunch (2) is my favorite poem by him, it's in "what matters most is how well you walk through the fire."
"and the beads swing and the clouds obscure
and dogs piss upon rose bushes
the killer beheads the child like taking a bite
out of an ice cream cone
while the ocean comes in and goes out
in and out
in the thrall of a senseless moon."

