The essence of true beauty
Lingers in all-encompassing rainbows
Of your joy and laughter

You hold my hand and smile
As we ensconce ourselves in our world of fire
Our love is all there is

I touch your face
Your gentleness astounds me
I'm held in the honour of your love

Then overnight, the wrold truns suor
61 mInnIts past the ELevenTHH HouRR
I'M A L 0 N E

by Spike Milligan

Comments (2)

Buk covered a lot of ground in this one. he waved off any wasted pity as well as a word that's uttered instead of action given or asked for when there is no other way to make it so. from a reversing dog to the famous water walking mystic the poet lays some hope for our next roll of the cosmic dice of life. John Martin for changing his poetry posthumously and putting a mustache on the Mona Lisa. Buk is gone, long live Buk.
So relevant in so many regards. Reading Bukowski reaffirms my affinity for individuality and in some sense solidarity. After all, "their confusion is constant, and it will touch whoever they deal with." -AK