Luke Skywalker

Jun 08, 2008 00:54

the other night, Evan had me fill out this proust questionnaire book that his aunt gave him. It was over MANY bottles of two buck chuck with Evan and Zoe that i filled in the questions. when it came to the part asking how i felt at that moment in my life, i could honestly write the word, "CONTENT."

It astounded me. If you were to ask me a month ago how i felt i would have answered in some hopeless banter.

as stupid as it may sound, a fucking poem has helped me survive over the past month. It's by Charles Bukowski and there are too many reasons why i love it. it's been a comfort, a place to replace my anger, it's been my truth.

"me"

women don't know how to love,

she told me.

you know how to love

but women just want to

leech.

I know this because I'm a

woman.

hahaha, I laughed.

so don't worry about your breakup

with Susan

because she'll just leech onto

somebody else.

we talked awhile longer

then I said goodbye

hungup

went into the crapper and

took a good beershit

mainly thinking, well,

I'm still alive

and have the ability to expell
wastes from my body.

and poems.

and as long as that's happening

I have the ability to handle

betrayal

loneliness

hangnail

clap

and the economic reports in the

financial section.

with that

I stood up

wiped

flushed

then thought:

it's true:

I know how to
love.

I pulled up my pants and walked

into the other room.

hours later.
during the morning sunlight, we were all cuddled together, finally passed out.
Oakland rules.
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