...
he had a
real
soul
and the usual
real
needs.
Needed a globally accessible place to jot down notes about books, films, music and the such.
...
he had a
real
soul
and the usual
real
needs.
What is it that this song makes me think of? Some sad, lingering sound, yet with tempo.
Nice.
Wrote so many notes during reading I'm not sure what to write here.
Blown away. Meta-writing to the max, superbe!
It keeps you wondering and wondering even more, changing thoughts and ideas all the time.
What a genius.
(I know, I'm not writing anything useful down. I'll see what I can do later on)
These poems are part of an archive of unpublished work that Charles Bukowski left to be published after his death.
Still love his deadpan voice.
Makes me wonder what it is like to write (poetry) on a typewriter.
It makes me starting to see the poetry in spilled salt, in the strong gusts of winds that whip the unfamiliar rain around, in everything.
... that their
morning eagerness
means that
they retired early
and thus wasted the
preceding
night