en
Charles Bukowski

The People Look Like Flowers at Last

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the gas line is leaking, the bird is gone from the cage, the skyline is dotted with vultures;Benny finally got off the stuff and Betty now has a jobas a waitress; andthe chimney sweep was quite delicate as hegiggled up through the soot.I walked miles through the city and recognizednothing as a giant claw ate at my stomach while the inside of my head felt airy as if I was about to go mad.it’s not so much that nothing means anything but more that it keeps meaningnothing,there’s no release, just gurus and self-appointed gods and hucksters.the more people say, the less there is to say.even the best books are dry sawdust.
—from “fingernails; nostrils; shoelaces”
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117 trykte sider
Udgivelsesår
2009
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Citater

  • Anet Acogidohar citeretfor 4 år siden
    I am
    a series of
    small victories
    and large defeats
    and I am as
    amazed
    as any other
    that
    I have gotten
    from there to
    here
    without committing murder
    or being
    murdered;
    without
    having ended up in the
    madhouse.
  • Josshar citeretfor 3 år siden
    and like a claw reaching down into some pit of me,

    surrounded by walls like tombs I answer meekly,

    Simile

  • Josshar citeretfor 3 år siden
    “memory is a poor excuse for the present”

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