Black Rebel Motorcycle Club Ask iAN * HANK – August 16th 1920

Ask iAN

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Ask iAN * HANK – August 16th 1920



Like the word Love, the word Bukowski can also seem dropped too often and too easy...and far too many people use these words  for the wrong reason. 

You will never find me in any Charles Bukowski fanclub
or at any "bukowski night" poetry reading

When i think of him
I think of us, as him and i alone together...

I have given certain people bukowski books, in thanks to the mentor i had back when i was 17 years old that turned me on to giving me one of his books...
Love is a Dog from Hell.

I never liked bukowski because he wrote poetry.
I liked him because he HAD to write in order to feel normal.
I never liked him for his messy sex life.
I liked him because he worshipped at the altar of felines.
I never liked him because of his bar room brawls or his alcoholism.
I liked him because he understood the necessity of solitude.
I liked him because he understood the stupidity of mobs and crowds.
I liked him, because when Love left, which it so often does...his guts dropped.
I like him for exposing all the things that many men are and don't need to be
kick ass
ownership issues
control issues
and he turned it around
and became soft...with women, with animals, with colours,
with Life...
I liked him because he could laugh at himself
I liked him because he understood the pain of dull people taking up your valuable time (and time is just that...valuable)

never faded into the wallpaper
never accepted what the dead spirited people accepted
never was a cool guy
and because of
his style...

His books have kept me company for over 20 years.
Kept me company  when the world
got stupider
when friends became too lofty or glitter-titted
kept me company when the panic attacks came a knockin'
kept me company when i thought i would throw in the towel
kept me company when everything else refused to make sense...
he's like a quiet empty bar
a cigarette alone in an empty room with a sleeping dog
or the quietude a room gains in richness when an angry person has left it and you alone in it.
Thanks Hank...Happy Birthday
August 16th, 2011

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