Well then, what shall I speak of? My mind is a cauldron, a bloody crows nest of this and that. Jeez...I'm a fan of the written word, sometimes the spoken or sung word, definitely a ground dwelling beast. Terra Firma?...is that how it's said.
Come to the whole Buk thing late I guess. Discovered the great beast sometime in my thirties, and was somewhat taken by his outlook, his daily devotional. I knew this guy. I'd sat beside him countless nights, spent a neon Christmas or two cackling at the rail, throwin' 'em back, keepin' the good eye on the door.
A classic American story this Bukowski thing. I'm not sure of many things, but of that, I'll bet the last of the tip.