Bukowski says listen to Chopin
So I do
If I smoked, I would light up an American cigarette
Proper with matches that reek sulfer
Rock in this old rocking chair
Little brown dog at my feet
Ruining my lungs
For romanticism
and the taste of tobacco on my teeth
grey ashes in pink shells
there are candles—there should always be candles
and rich olive oil in green and bronze cans
and Italians
who know how to eat, nap, live
“Do you know how to eat spaghetti?”
He asks
I twirl it round and round
Hold the entire plate on my fork
Dangling it hopelessly over my mouth
“No, No” he yells.
I live with such princesses
Mi gusta la mar
Mi gusta le noches
Mi gusta marijuana
The words mean nothing and everything all at once
Bare feet on the white tiles
Love elephant and want to go steady?
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Author: Janne Robinson
Editor: Renée Picard
Photo: courtesy of the author
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