Don't feel sorry for me.
I am a competent,
satisfied human being.
be sorry for the others
who
fidget
complain
who
constantly
rearrange their
lives
like
furniture.
juggling mates
and
attitudes
their
confusion is
constant
and it will
touch
whoever they
deal with.
beware of them:
one of their
key words is
'love.'
and beware those who
only take
instructions from their
God
for they have
failed completely to live their own
lives.
don't feel sorry for me
because I am alone
for even
at the most terrible
moments
humor
is my
companion.
I am a dog walking
backwards
I am a broken
banjo
I am a telephone wire
strung up in
Toledo, Ohio
I am a man
eating a meal
this night
in the month of
September.
put your sympathy
aside.
they say
water held up
Christ:
to come
through
you better be
nearly as
lucky.
Buk covered a lot of ground in this one. he waved off any wasted pity as well as a word that's uttered instead of action given or asked for when there is no other way to make it so. from a reversing dog to the famous water walking mystic the poet lays some hope for our next roll of the cosmic dice of life. John Martin for changing his poetry posthumously and putting a mustache on the Mona Lisa. Buk is gone, long live Buk.
So relevant in so many regards. Reading Bukowski reaffirms my affinity for individuality and in some sense solidarity. After all, "their confusion is constant, and it will touch whoever they deal with." -AK
I am a dog walking backwards I am a broken banjo I am a telephone wire strung up in Toledo, Ohio- imagination and fun. very nice p oem. tony