July 2011
92 posts
June 2011
96 posts
“ah christ, writers are the most sickening
of all the louts!
yellow-toothed, slump-shouldered,
gutless, flea-bitten and
obvious … in tinker-toy rooms
with their flabby hearts
they tell us
what’s wrong with the world-
as if we didn’t know that a cop’s club
can crack the head
and that war is a dirtier game than
marriage …
or down in a basement bar
hiding from a wife who doesn’t appreciate him
and children he doesn’t
want
he tells us that his heart is drowning in
vomit. hell, all our hearts are drowning in vomit,
in pork salt, in bad verse, in soggy
love.
but he thinks he’s alone and
he thinks he’s special and he thinks he’s Rimbaud
and he thinks he’s
Pound.” —Charles Bukowski - O, We Are The Outcasts. The entire poem is awesome, but this… this is perfect. (via nirvana-marijuana)
of all the louts!
yellow-toothed, slump-shouldered,
gutless, flea-bitten and
obvious … in tinker-toy rooms
with their flabby hearts
they tell us
what’s wrong with the world-
as if we didn’t know that a cop’s club
can crack the head
and that war is a dirtier game than
marriage …
or down in a basement bar
hiding from a wife who doesn’t appreciate him
and children he doesn’t
want
he tells us that his heart is drowning in
vomit. hell, all our hearts are drowning in vomit,
in pork salt, in bad verse, in soggy
love.
but he thinks he’s alone and
he thinks he’s special and he thinks he’s Rimbaud
and he thinks he’s
Pound.” —Charles Bukowski - O, We Are The Outcasts. The entire poem is awesome, but this… this is perfect. (via nirvana-marijuana)
