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Ordinary Madness More Poetry by Charles Bukowski from: You Get So Alone At Times That It Just Makes Sense how is your heart? during the worst times on the park benches in the jails or living with whores I always had this certain contentment--- I wouldn't call it happiness--- it was more on an inner balance that settled for whatever was occurring and it helped in the factories and when relationships went wrong with the girls. it helped through the wars and the hangovers the backalley fights the hospitals to awaken in a cheap room in a strange city and pull up the shade--- this was the craziest kind of contentment and to walk across the floor to an old dresser with a cracked mirror--- see myself, ugly, grinning at it all. what matters most is how well you walk through the fire. ---Charles Bukowski from: Burning In Water, Drowning In Flame love love, he said, gas kiss me off kissmy lips kiss my hair my fingers my eyes my brain make me forget love, he said, gas he had a room on the 3rd floor, rejected by a dozen women 35 editors and half a dozen hiring agencies, now I'm not saying he was any good he turned on all the jets without lighting them and went to bed somke hours later a guy on his way to room 309 lit a cigar in the hall and a sofa flew out the window one wall shaivered down like wet sand a purple flame waved 40 feet high in the air the guy in bed didn't know or care but I'd have to say he was pretty good that day. ---Charles Bukowski
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