please click on this hyper link. it directs you here: http://home.swipnet.se/~w-15266/cultur/bukowski/poem06.htm

"if it's not love, than it's the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, that will bring us together."

sounds:
smiths - singles

life is full of colors and lights coming together in a wash of uncontrollable time.
the way skin moves beneath form fitting fabric, not tight, but tender and sensual. flaws are apparent and beaufitul. these are the feelings of peace one can only imagine possible in a car, 300 feet above ground, falling with the driver strapped in for his final ride. in that final rush, life has meaning.

these fews seconds of truth have more value than a lifetime of action.

this is the only choice one can truly make. all other actions are distractions from the undeniable fact that one day, it will be your body, safely buckled in the vehicle, surrounded by serenity and calm, with only three hundred feet to go.

the changes i crave are deeper than one's skin. my life is marked with discontented moments and i crawl through the gutters of fulfilled potential while others shine gloriously with the effort they exert. my mind is larger than ten universes without boundries and with in it exists nothing. i believe in makeup wearing, costume hidden humans, slyly slipping by without ever really living.
inside the trouble of thought exists a single concept, "this is what you were made for."