Bukowski says listen to Chopin

So I do

If I smoked, I would light up an American cigarette

Proper with matches that reek sulfer

Rock in this old rocking chair

Little brown dog at my feet

Ruining my lungs

For romanticism

and the taste of tobacco on my teeth

grey ashes in pink shells

there are candles—there should always be candles

and rich olive oil in green and bronze cans

and Italians

who know how to eat, nap, live

“Do you know how to eat spaghetti?”

He asks

I twirl it round and round

Hold the entire plate on my fork

Dangling it hopelessly over my mouth

“No, No” he yells.

I live with such princesses

Mi gusta la mar

Mi gusta le noches

Mi gusta marijuana

I dance

The words mean nothing and everything all at once

Bare feet on the white tiles

Love elephant and want to go steady?

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Author: Janne Robinson

Editor: Renée Picard

Photo: courtesy of the author