“Snacking on Bukowski”

I go to the bookstore because
I’m hungry. Because I miss
the taste of air that’s been slowly
seasoned, with thousands of books.

Because I need to sit in a place
with a thousand, thousand doors
that open into the labyrinthine minds
of a thousand, thousand artists.

A place with endless lines
of ink, spilling onto pages in
orderly rows; belying
the wild, raving
luscious canvas within.

A place where staid black and white, blend
to create brighter and more vivid
colors than those that see
the light of day.

Because I need to run my fingers
slowly
down soft
spines
of beautiful stories, wishing
I had time to do them all.
My imagination snacking
on candy.

I wander.
I breathe.
I breathe.
My insides relax.
I feel the texture of paper
slick as the ice in Spring
or formed from tiny chunks of trees
otherwise left forgotten.

I crack open Bukowski and read the short, broken
lines, slipping down
the textured page.
Just a snack.
(He’s always there.)
Until I realize I have to go.
Realize that I’ve been
smiling the entire time.
And Charles has reminded me
how much I like to read.

--Graves 12/30/14

Note: Charles Bukowski (August 16, 1920 – March 9, 1994) was a German-born American poet, novelist and short story writer. His work addresses the ordinary lives of poor Americans in Los Angeles, the city where he lived and which provided the background for his inspiration. Bukowski wrote thousands of poems, hundreds of short stories and six novels, eventually publishing over sixty books. The FBI kept a file on him as a result of his column, “Notes of a Dirty Old Man,” published in the LA underground newspaper “Open City.” In 1986 Time Magazine called Bukowski a "laureate of American lowlife".

Bukowski’s gravestone reads: "Don't Try," a phrase which he uses in one of his poems, advising aspiring writers and poets about inspiration and creativity. Bukowski explained the phrase in a 1963 letter to John William Corrington: "Somebody at one of these places [...] asked me: 'What do you do? How do you write, create?' You don't, I told them. You don't try. That's very important: not to try, either for Cadillacs, creation or immortality. You wait, and if nothing happens, you wait some more. It's like a bug high on the wall. You wait for it to come to you. When it gets close enough you reach out, slap out and kill it. Or if you like its looks you make a pet out of it."

I am happy to announce that my book "Messages in a Bottle: Communications to My Future Self" took one of the top awards given by the Colorado Independent Publishers Association in 2018. Find out more about it, and about my book “Reflections on a Crystal Wind” at:

https://www.michaelgravespoet.com/