Posted By: Vulfila (Name? Porad to same!) on 'Poetry'
Title:     Bukowski
Date:      Thu Oct 16 12:09:02 1997



Chopin Bukowski

this is my piano.

the phone rings and people ask,
what are you doing? how about
getting drunk with us?

and I say,
I'm at my piano.

what?

I'm at my piano.

I hang up.

people need me. I fill
them. if they can't see me
for a while they get desperate, they get
sick.

but if I see them too often
I get sick. it's hard to feed
without being fed.

my piano say things back to
me.

sometimes the things are
scrambled and not very good.
other times
I get as good and lucky as
Chopin.

sometimes I get out of practise
out of tune. that's
all right.

I can sit down and vomit on the
keys.
but it's my vomit.

it's better than sitting in a room
with 3 or 4 people and
their pianos.

this is my piano
and it is better than theirs.

and they like it and they do not
like it


          ==============================Vulfiiiila=========
          I'm tired of Love, I'm still more tired of Rhyme;
          But Money brings me pleasure all the time.
                                   Hilaire Belloc: Fatigued