"I started writing hundred of poems and sending them out. You know poetry doesn't pay anything, it was just a form I needed. Kind of a passionate, pleasurable, selfish, nice form where you can scream a bit. I guess I needed to scream a little bit." C. Bukowski
Thursday, November 5, 2015
day thirty-nine
as i walk
toward town
i look down
and smell you
off my chest
i forget
distracted
look down at the curb
you
again
all the way
into town
your smell
on my entire body
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