1. Wednesday, April 25, 2007

    out of the blue she calls 

    to say hi. to say shes lonely. to say shes sick. to say the world is boring and so are you. to say hi.

    we never had a problem getting along.

    why would you have a problem getting along with me.

    i want the same things they want.

    their shirt off.

    she called to say she wanted to be bukowskis girlfriend and i was all bukowskis not home right now and vonnegut is meeting his maker, the butt of so many of his jokes, the guy he didnt believe in, but couldnt stop talking about.

    when i was her age i was taking this science class and the lady made us take five slices of bread and put them in large petrie dishes around our house. one was in the sunlight most of the day. one was in somewhere cold. one was in somewhere hot. one was in somewhere wet. one was somewhere dark.

    we were doing a science experiment figuring out where mold grew best.

    i was all, ma’am we know that mold isnt going to grow on the bread in the fridge, its protected, so why even bother?

    and she said, ah ha, while its true that we know the mold will grow quicker on the bread outside the fridge, unless you have some magical refridgerator, mold will indeed grow on that bread, just at a slower rate.

    some writers need girlfriends. some writers are ruined with girlfriends.

    what we know about bukowskis girlfriend / longest lasting wife is she put up with his shit. he was old, ugly, he drank alot, smoked, gambled, was horny a lot, wrote everything down, and mailed it to strangers.

    he also gave the appearance of being someone who could occasionally be an ugly drunk.

    he looked like how tom waits sounds.

    but worst of all he was a poet.

    ugly men are tolerable, but how do you live with someone who believes that what they are writing is poetry?

    bukowski wrote a hundred books and no one would have mistaken him as the poet in a police line up, even if they had read some of his stuff.

    but he was the greatest

    in the world.

    and thats what she told him until the day that he died.

    for such a heavy drinker, the fact that he lived until he was 74, some say was a miracle.

    i say it was because of his girl.