a cheer for modern contrivances—

the best writers now
I’m told
have

word-processors.

I’m not even sure what a
word-processor
is

but
no matter–

the bermuda grass roots tangling
in my mother’s bones

no matter–

the shadow of the falling
canyon

no matter–

getting beyond the dream of the
elephant

I’m not getting
one

whatever it
is

but
I hope it helps the best writers
get better

because I can’t read them
now

and any improvement
major or minor
will help us
all

believe
me.

Author
Charles Bukowski
Written
1985
Source
Original manuscript
This poem appeared in the following books: