---
my doom smiles at me
there’s no other way:
8 or ten poems a
night.
in the sink
behind me are dishes
that haven’t been
washed in 2
weeks.
the sheets need
changing
and the bed is
unmade.
half the lights are
burned-out here.
it gets darker
and darker
(I have replacement
bulbs but can’t get them
out of their cardboard
wrapper.) Despite my
dirty shorts in the
bathtub
and the rest of my dirty
laundry on the
bedroom floor,
they haven’t
come for me yet
with their badges and their rules and their
numb ears. oh, them
and their caprice!
like the fox
I run with the hunted and
if I’m not the happiest
man on earth I’m surely the
luckiest man
alive.
8 or ten poems a
night.
in the sink
behind me are dishes
that haven’t been
washed in 2
weeks.
the sheets need
changing
and the bed is
unmade.
half the lights are
burned-out here.
it gets darker
and darker
(I have replacement
bulbs but can’t get them
out of their cardboard
wrapper.) Despite my
dirty shorts in the
bathtub
and the rest of my dirty
laundry on the
bedroom floor,
they haven’t
come for me yet
with their badges and their rules and their
numb ears. oh, them
and their caprice!
like the fox
I run with the hunted and
if I’m not the happiest
man on earth I’m surely the
luckiest man
alive.
---
jeg skal tatovere run with the hunted på hånda eller ankelen, fordi det er sånn jeg vil leve. med høy puls og følelsen av at man lever, og alt faktisk er ok, alt er faktisk levende. og fordi noen ganger, når natta pakker verden inn i stillhet og nostalgi så leser jeg dette, og da føler jeg meg mindre aleine, jeg føler at noen forstår. hvem forstår dere?
jeg liker poteter.
SvarSlettlitt.
bukowski = <3
for et fantastisk fint og rart dikt!
SvarSletthaha, jeg leste "jeg elsker poteter"
SvarSlett<3