As I alluded to in yesterday's post, I'm giving away three copies of Charles Bukowski's final collection of new poems, The People Look Like Flowers At Last. I realize that saying that this is it from Bukowski may be hard to accept as true. This will be the fifth collection of new poems released since his death in 1994, but we swear, we know John Martin, we know Linda Bukowski, as far as we all can tell, this is it. (Except for the Selected Buk that we'll be publishing next year, edited by John Martin, but that's irrelevant.) In order to procure your copy, please write me at [email protected]. Include your name, address, and...here's the catch: to win a copy you must write, what you think, would be Bukowski's final poem.
Will he muse on the fickle and violent love of women, the fellowship of whisky, the anarchy of Los Angeles, the slow, ineluctable approach of death? Will he be lewd, comic, sorely profound? It is up to you.
I'll choose 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place winners--each will receive The People Look Like Flowers At Last and other goodies commensurate with their place. Each winning poem will be posted for a day on the CM. The deadline is Wednesday, March 21st and please include the poem in the body of your e-mail. That should be plenty of time considering Buk's methods of composition.
In the meantime, to help get you started, here's a long one from his final collection:
"sadness in the air"
here I am alone sitting
like some wimp
listening to Chopin
the night wind blowing in
through the
torn curtains.
won $546 at the track today but
now I'm thinking that
dying is such a strange and
ordinary thing.
I just hope that I'll never need
false teeth before I
go.
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