recently in the poetry section of a rather young and popular bookstore a young woman with a beautifully furrowed brow and silky blonde hair stopped me with a question on her face i'm sure she thought was important
instead she asked me where the poetry section was
"we're standing in it love," i replied as i drew a bukowski from the shelf
"oh, duh, thanks," she said and began to appear to look for something
growing tired of the game already i took the ball
"anybody in particular you were looking for?"
she nearly jumped out of her abercrombie and fitches in surprise then cool and collected she brushed her hair behind one delicate ear and pronounced rather proudly she was a fan of kerouac and also anais ninn and went on to mention others i'd never heard of
"so, do you like poetry?" she asked surrounded by books old and new frost and cummings eavesdropping with glee
"yeah, some," i answered a bit hesitantly
"really? like who?"
"um, i just got into saul williams, i like some frost, cummings..."
"oh, i can't read his stuff it's too confusing..."cutting me off
i took a breathe counted freckles on her face and continued
"also, i read wcw..."
"who?"
"william carlos williams? paterson?"
"oh, okay"
twenty three freckles and counting
"and i really like bukowski..."
if i was deaf i would have thought i'd farted
her face twisted up like an arthritic ass
"bukowski? charles bukowski? ugh, gross! he's, like, so disgusting! the way he talks about women and drinking and his ugly old dick! he's so nasty!"
forty eight freckles and i say "have you ever read his work? and i don't mean for school. i mean for pleasure."
"i did for school!"
"then you missed the point."
"what point?"
i regretted even giving her the option of asking me but now i was trapped
"you shouldn't assume he's a sexist. he was just afraid of women, like all men are." i paused realizing how beautiful she was freckled young and puzzled
"i've been reading him for sixteen years, and i only really understood his idea a few years ago"
"what idea was that?"
i almost didn't want to tell her but she smelled like dandelions and the beach and i am a sucker for young girls who read books
"his idea," i replied "is that kindness is just about the best that we can do."
Want to review or comment on this poem?
Need a FREE Reader Membership?
Reviews of "bukowski's idea (one for the girl in the bookstore)"
I'm glad I could turn you onto such a genius as Saul. I've noticed his undertones in your work lately and I have to say it's very flattering to your style. Blonde girls who smell like the beach... what happened to redheads who smell of antiquated books and boredom? I feel put out.
David Hightower’s lyrically expansive meditation on the whims of fate and the unpredictability of the human condition fill the pages of THE HANGING MAN DREAMS with thrilling music and mesmerizing imagery. Hightower’s richly infused voice echoes the e
With Platonic Love,
April
fantastic write!
(((HUGS))) and love, your tx. friend, karen lynn. :D
An amazing story in free verse. I don't think she'll get "it," either--but I'm glad I did!
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla. :)