I, too, am certain that it is harder and harder to stay afloat. The water is fast and deep and my pockets full of stones. I feel I have surrendered to a life I cannot breathe or bare or wake up to any more. I tried like you tried and failed like you failed and without you I would have thought that hope is still a pear waiting to be picked in a Sussex garden. I feel I did not understand this until you asked Mrs Dalloway to visit and she brought cake and we had tea and spoke about parties and vegetables. I'm afraid I've been buying the flowers myself for far too long or so the voices say. They are carnations and hydrangeas and perhaps lilies and sometimes I'm not certain which ones to choose, at all. I wanted to thank you for the other day when I heard the Big Ben chimes and remembered what you once said to me in London: *"The leaden circles dissolve in the air”. They did and I cried for no reason, no reason at all, because there was no reason left to cry for. If anyone could have saved me it wouldn't have been you. You opened my eyes and now, on sunny, monotone afternoons, I can even make up the face these hands are firmly holding under the surface.
No. It is not his birthday, or the anniversary of his death.
In fact there is no reason for this post apart from the obvious one (known by many by now): Bukowski is a poet. And this is a good reason to commemorate him and his work as often as time allows it. (He would so laugh at these words if he was still alive)
I asked myself many times why love his work? Why obsess with a guy that drunk, cursed and used women instead of tissues.Why bother buying another poetry book signed by him? Why even planning to go visit his grave some time in the future?
And I bet there are a few more other questions out there my subconscious has not as yet processed.
Hank was a hater of people, a hater of poetry readings, a hater of conventionality. Yes, he loved his alcohol, his classical music, his gambling on horses and I believe he loved the idea of love - which may or may not be anything to do with the women he encountered.
The thing that keeps me hooked is his cunning ability to be honest, brutally open about taboo and totally exposed to the waves of pain and deception life throws at any given time.
The link will take you to the last public reading he ever made, the last straw...