While Charles Bukowski said that great literature,
like Tolstoy's "War & Peace," bored him and lacked that
something special he was looking for, that moxie (?!?),
it could be surmised, based on some known facts
about CB, that plain and simple bottles held a lot of that
something special. Alas: to each his own. May God
give us poor poets moxie.
Listen to CB ramble off his scatological gospel:
This world is so wide that, even if you flitted around and around it, you would never reach the end of it. This blog is a collage of more or less literary and humorous, outlandish or sometimes even serious glimpses at this great wide world.
Showing posts with label Bukowski. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bukowski. Show all posts
Friday, July 20, 2007
Sunday, April 15, 2007
In a trough
If this is all you have to complain about, you're doing great.I'm in a writing trough right now.
– Playdough, ca. 333 BC
Might change any minute. Hopefully will.
Triggered by:
- Too many calls from an ageing parent who has excelled in laying guilt trips on people for most of her 86 (soon to be 87) years.
- Overload & exhaustion, including from having been exceedingly "creative".
- Back pain.
- General Unlust*.
*A wonderful German word for which there is no exact match in English. Perhaps "disinclination" would not be so bad.
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