Mar 6 2004
brown and solemn
the dog jumps up on the bed
crawls over me.
"are you the Word?" I ask him
he doesn't answer.
"are you the Word?" I'm looking for the Word."
he has brown and solemn eyes.
"I'm waiting for the Word," I tell him,
"I'm walking around like a man
in a large hot
frying pan."
he wags his tail and tries to
lick my face.
"listen," she says from the bedroom,
"why don't you get out of bed
and stop talking to that dog?"
my parents didn't understand me
either.
- Charles Bukowski, from his book
what matters most is how well you walk through the fire
Posted by Kyle in Bukowski | Permalink
