For Jane

225 days under grass
and you know more than I.
they have long taken your blood,
you are a dry stick in a basket.
is this how it works?
in this room
the hours of love
still make shadows.

when you left
you took almost
everything.
I kneel in the nights
before tigers
that will not let me be.

what you were
will not happen again.
the tigers have found me
and I do not care

-Charles Bukowski

Mama here I am in the ground my mouth open and I can't even say mama, and the dogs run by and stop and piss on my stone; I get it all except the sun and my suit is looking bad and yesterday the last of my left arm gone very little left, all harp-like without music. at least a drunk in bed with a cigarette might cause 5 fire engines and 33 men. I can't do any thing. but p.s. -- Hector Richmond in the next tomb thinks only of Mozart and candy caterpillars. he is very bad company. -Charles Bukowski

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YYJ0Mb3XbCo&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y22ty-VPpbA

upwards where

there

is no sounds

no voices

decadent colors

happiness becomes the

sidewalk

the building overtop

the shuffle and hum

i've got no spare change.

"or are y'all livin' off love?"

twirling feet

achy mind

wide-eyed

I can't speak

I can't speak

breathe in

and touch

Artwork of an Orangutang

Grapefruit

Self Portrait