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
Thursday, June 16, 2011
I'm petrified of emptiness another side of loneliness Will always tend to break me in two If you’re to come back to me, in pieces or a melody There couldn’t be a better way through
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