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Elevator Safari.  You suppose this is the journal of an imaginary journey, between imaginary floors.  You can just keep riding, you take your chances on what happens when you step out into the world. 

Well, so, is the world random, or is there some order to all this coincidence?  You become a fan of Bukowski on Facebook, and so do your friends.  You make a little ripple with them…and so on, and so on, etc. 

For Jane: With All the Love I Had, Which Was Not Enough:

I pick up the skirt,
I pick up the sparkling beads
in black,
this thing that moved once
around flesh,
and I call God a liar,
I say anything that moved
like that
or knew
my name
could never die
in the common verity of dying,
and I pick
up her lovely
all her loveliness gone,
and I speak to all the gods,
Jewish gods, Christ-gods,
chips of blinking things,
idols, pills, bread,
fathoms, risks,
knowledgeable surrender,
rats in the gravy of two gone quite mad
without a chance,
hummingbird knowledge, hummingbird chance,
I lean upon this,
I lean on all of this
and I know
her dress upon my arm
they will not
give her back to me. 


One thought on “bukowski

    sonnivhek said:
    May 5, 2009 at 10:11 pm

    trust the elevator

    yes sometimes it opens
    to a floor on fire
    your life on fire

    it can’t really burn you
    what you are, this fire

    sometimes it opens to beauty
    sometimes to love

    we wake from dreams, slowly
    and marvel at
    all we used to think real

    sometimes it takes an accident
    to discover there aren’t any

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