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(NB. A new rule: I will only read things written post-1950. This is exactly opposite to my pretty firm old rule that I’d only read pre-1950s stuff. I start with Bukowski and Ginsberg. The poem below is eerily similar to my blogging philosophy:)

A NOT SO GOOD NIGHT IN THE SAN PEDRO OF THE WORLD
Charles Bukowski, 1993. From here.

it’s unlikely that a decent poem is in me
tonight
and I understand that this is strickly my
problem
and of no interest to you
that I sit here listening to a man playing
a piano on the radio
and it’s bad piano, both the playing and
the composition
and again, this is of no interest to you
as one of my cats,
a beautiful white with strange markings,
sleeps in the bathroom.

I have no idea of what would be of interest to you
but I doubt that you would be of
interest to me, so don’t get
superior.
in fact, come to think of it, you can
kiss my ass.

I continue to listen to the piano
this will not be a memorable night in my
life or yours.

let us celebrate the stupidity of our
endurance.

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