it’s ours
there is always that space there
just before they get to us
that space
that fine relaxer
the breather
while say
flopping on a bed
thinking of nothing
or say
pouring a glass of water from the
spigot
while entranced by
nothing
that
gentle pure
space
it’s worth
centuries of
existence
say
just to scratch your neck
while looking out the window at
a bare branch
that space
there
before they get to us
ensures
that
when they do
they won’t
get it all
ever.
Charles Bukowski
charles replied:
that ‘place’ requires stillness. I discovered it while I was paralyzed but it’s there for everyone. Unfortunately we spend our break-neck existence too distracted to tolerate the patience required to enjoy it. Bukowski must have been torn between that precious space and the raw intolerable distractions constantly knocking on his door. But he wouldn’t have had it any other way. Charles
November 6, 2008 at 6:54 pm. Permalink.