... will not be televised, part II

(student slogans during protests in Paris, '68)

REVOLUTION CEASES TO BE THE MOMENT IT BECOMES NECESSARY TO BE SACRIFICED FOR IT---- IT IS FORBIDDEN TO FORBID ---- NEITHER GODS NOR MASTERS ---- DOWN WITH THE ABSTRACT, LONG LIVE THE EPHEMERAL ---- AFTER ART, GOD IS DEAD ---- DOWN WITH A WORLD WHERE THE GUARANTEE THAT WE WON'T DIE OF STARVATION HAS PURCHASED WITH THE GUARANTEE THAT WE WILL DIE OF BOREDOM ---- CLUB MED, A CHEAP HOLIDAY IN OTHER PEOPLE'S MISERY ---- DON'T CHANGE EMPLOYERS, CHANGE THE EMPLOYMENT OF LIFE ---- NEVER WORK ---- CHANCE MUST BE SYSTEMATICALLY EXPLORED ---- RUN, COMRADE, THE OLD WORLD IS BEHIND YOU! ---- BE CRUEL ---- THE MORE YOU CONSUME THE LESS YOU LIVE ---- LIVE WITHOUT DEAD TIME ---- INDULGE UNTRAMMELED DESIRE ---- PEOPLE WHO TALK ABOUT REVOLUTION AND CLASS STRUGGLE WITHOUT REFERRING EXPLICITLY TO EVERYDAY LIFE, WITHOUT UNDERSTANDING WHAT IS SUBVERSIVE ABOUT LOVE AND POSITIVE ABOUT THE REFUSAL OF CONSTRAINTS, HAVE CORPSES IN THEIR MOUTH ---- UNDER THE PAVING STONES, THE BEACH!

the way it is now

by Charles Bukowski


I'll tell you
I've lived with some gorgeous women
and I was so bewitched by those
beautiful creatures that
my eyebrows twitched

but I'd rather drive to New York
backwards
than to live with any of them
again.

the next classic stupidity
will be the history
of those fellows
who inherit my female
legacies.

in their case
as in mine
they will find
that madness
is caused by not
being often enough
alone.

Soul Searching

There's one CD that I've been dying to hear. I own it. I think I've had it for some years, too, but just haven't heard it in a very long time. It must be in this spindle. My fingertips are becoming raw as I speak; I've been flipping through these discs for so long now. It's in here somewhere. Or maybe it's here.

There's this thing that I have coming up, and I have this great new shirt that I can wear to it. I don't like to admit that I plan ahead like this, but there's no denying it: I want to look cool when I go there. The shirt seems to be misplaced though. It must be in my closet, but where the hell did I put it? It might be in my car. I've already overturned whole stacks of shirts, and I'm starting to tire of this.

I've been in the frozen foods section, looking for a certain type of pizza, and I'm past the point where I'll stick my whole arm in the freezer, flipping over the boxes that have already been busted open but still sit there, as if anyone would want to buy that shit. People have taken to bumping my ass -- for some reason -- with their fucking grocery carts, and these goddamn neon lights are eating away at my retinas. It's in here; it's most definitely in here. If only these fat bastards would stop distracting me long enough for me to find it.