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This isn't necessarily my favorite poem. But, one of many favorites by one of my favorite writers, Charles Bukowski.
The text suffers from the censoring software; some of its power is reduced by the omissions. Without the harsh language the juxtaposition of the writing is somewhat lost. Like A Flower In The Rain I cut the middle fingernail of the middle finger right hand real short and I began rubbing along her [censored] as she sat upright in bed spreading lotion over her arms face and breasts after bathing. then she lit a cigarette: "don't let this put you off," an smoked and continued to rub the lotion on. I continued to rub the [censored]. "You want an apple?" I asked. "sure, she said, "you got one?" but I got to her- she began to twist then she rolled on her side, she was getting wet and open like a flower in the rain. then she rolled on her stomach and her most beautiful ass looked up at me and I reached under and got the [censored] again. she reached around and got my [censored], she rolled and twisted, I mounted my face falling into the mass of red hair that overflowed from her head and my flattened [censored] entered into the miracle. later we joked about the lotion and the cigarette and the apple. then I went out and got some chicken and shrimp and french fries and buns and mashed potatoes and gravy and cole slaw,and we ate.she told me how good she felt and I told her how good I felt and we ate the chicken and the shrimp and the french fries and the buns and the mashed potatoes and the gravy and the cole slaw too. |
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