you were one of the best female poets and I told the publishers, editors, “ Her, print her, she’s mad but she’s magic, there’s no lie in her fire.” I loved you like a man loves a woman he never touches, only writes to, keeps little photographs of. I would have loved you more if I had sat in a small room rolling a cigarette and listened to you piss in the bathroom, but that didn’t happen. - Charles Bukowski, from An Almost Made Up Poem
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Blinded by Fury
You read in books about how someone is 'blinded by fury'. It's true in many ways- the heat of anger swallows you up like a giant leap of flame, and it phagocytes logic and love, and all you see before you is a dangerously incensed leviathan egging on the liquidation of a hateful being
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