"question and answer"
he sat naked and drunk in a room of summer
night, running the blade of the knife
under his fingernails, smiling, thinking
of all the letters he had received
telling him that
the way he lived and wrote about
it had kept them going when
putting the blade on the table, he
flicked it with a finger
and it whirled
in a flashing circle
under the light.
who the hell is going to save
as the knife stopped spinning
the answer came:
you're going to have to
a: he lit a
b: he poured
c: gave the blade
--from The Last Night of the Earth Poems (Charls Bukowski)
Off to go read some more and sleep. I got to work at 5am, left at 6pm, and I'm a wee bit tired.