Love
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Charles Bukowski
Love, he said, gas
kiss me off
kiss my lips
kiss my hair
my fingers
my eyes my brain
make me forget
He had a room on the 3rd floor,
rejected by a dozen women,
35 editors
and half a dozen hiring agencies.
Now I'm not saying he was any
good.
He turned on all the jets
without lighting them
and went to bed.
Some hours later, a guy on his
way to room 309
lit a cigar in the
hall.
And a sofa flew out the window.
One wall shivered down like wet sand.
A purple flame waved 40 feet high in the air.
The guy in bed
didn't know or care,
but I'd have to say
he was pretty good
that day.