it’s all right, don’t lay any guilt on me:

I am a cloud I am snow I am vanilla icecream I am this
paper

I find it good to awaken in the morning like this, al-
though there’s some pink, and you might say that my face
is red

but mostly I am the other
and I’ve learned not to mind
it even though it makes some people
angry
all I’ve got to do is
be this
and it’s easy
it’s all over me
now

and when I’m dead even my bones will be
white
and I find it all
an attractive
consignment.

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I want to bring all of Bukowski's poems online and make then freely available. This means hundreds of hours of work to retype over 1,000 of his poems from the original manuscripts. Your donations will help support this work.