it’s fundamental

space, hairy hairy   space the lord   be with thee
space between cars between freeways between cities between
you and me between bugs and bombs
a universe of space neither terrifying or ugly, right or wrong
just there: you could fire pistols through it
between you and me
or skin rabbits in it or blow up   Hong Kong or build a statue
or spade a cat or install a telephone or mug an old lady or
change a tire or grow a tree
there’s nothing   wrong with people being together even if they
don’t know

it’s when you get to know that you miss that space

and run for

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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.