because of bukowski

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12 & york.  denver.  mile high.

i got mad at a man in a wheelchair today.
and i was everything i despise, and everything i never want anyone else to see.

dark side out.

it’s there, and i walk with it some times.
do you?

it’s all any of us wants isn’t it?  to know we’re not alone?
to have a lilting tune or thoughtful prose tap us on the shoulder.
to feel the living earth under our bare feet pulsing and humming, “yes!  yes!  me too!  me too!”

the undisciplined tongue

 

 

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