…. . . .
“People are worn away with striving, they hide in common habits. Their concerns are herd concerns. Few have the ability to stare at an old shoe for ten minutes or to think of odd things like who invented the doorknob? They become unalive because they are unable to pause undo themselves unkink unsee unlearn roll clear. Listen to their untrue laughter, then walk away.”
Fuck everything you ever thought about poetry, ever. I can confidently say this because this book made me fuck everything I thought I knew about poetry. Charles Bukowski made me understand that it is not about the words written on a page, but what lies in the space between them. And most importantly, this book made me understand what we fill those spaces with speaks volumes in its silence. Where our minds go after the punctuation mark of a sentence is what shows us ourselves: which…
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