That one poem, the one that hooked ya. (1 Viewer)

IF I were at lunch, say today, at this weird little veggie joint on the 5th floor of a beaten up office building say in, Richardson, Texas, and out of my notebook fell the little laminated pic of Buk I carry around with me, and my dining companion, an elderly acupuncturist with the desire to bend her world a little said, 'Who is that, your grand-daddy?' and I were to try to tell her about Buk, and keep in mind I didnt finish high-school, summations and such do not come easy especially if iIm trying to TALK about something I feel love about,)
which poem would it be really cool to pull out of my hip pocket, nattily but nicely folded to hand to her that would do the work for me?

Opinions would be so cool.

First of all, let me say that I LOVE that you have a laminated picture of Buk that you carry around with you. And second, I don't have any suggestions, but that reminded me of something that happened to me.

One morning my 12 year old daughter couldn't find her zip-up sweatshirt on the way out the door, so she grabbed mine. Then she handed me a folded up piece of paper and said "here."
I said, "what's that?"
She said, "I don't know".

It was the poem "Beer" that I had folded up and was carrying around with me because it made me feel good to have it. I could just take it out and read it whenever I wanted, but I forgot it was there. How funny (or really not that funny) would that have been if she had taken it to school? "Beer" would be my suggestion. But then, I AM seasofbeer.
I Agree... Genius of the Crowd is timely and easy for the non poetry minded person to read it and say "this is poetry & I like it". There is some dispute about it being one of his BEST (I think that it is), but it would certainly make it easier to explain WHY you love Buk...

i actually have about six of them, little wallet sized things i carry around with me. i'm so ridiculous, and so fucking HOOKED.
i cant even read billy collins these days and he's the only poet up til meeting Bukowski's work that i could stomach (aside from my own, which is of course, fantastic.)
I hope you write me soon!
one of my favortie poems:

we evolve

at first it seems like fucking is the big thing,

then after that ? social consciousness,

then intellectual accomplishment,

and after that

some fall into religion

others into the arts.

after that begins the gathering of money

the stage we pretend that

money doesn?t matter.

then it?s health and hobbies,

travel, and finally just sitting around

thinking vaguely of vague things,

rooting in gardens

hating flies, noise, bad weather, snails,

old friends, drunks, smoking, fucking,

singing, dancing, upstarts,

the postman and the weeds.

it gives one the fidgets: waiting on


Charles Bukowski
Dangling in the Tournefortia (1981)

'spring swan' got me hooked:

swans die in the Spring too
and there it floated
dead on a Sunday
circling on current
and I walked to the rotunda
and overheard
gods in chariots
dogs, women
and death
ran down my throat
like a mouse
and I heard the people coming
with their picnic bags
and laughter,
and I felt guilty
for the swan
as if death
were a thing of shame
and like a fool
I walked away
and left them
my beautiful swan

(c. bukowski, from Days Run Away Like Wild Horses Over the Hills)

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