to have recognized that; "this then/will be my destiny," he writes in "The Poetry Reading," originally published in the 1972 collection "Mockingbird Wish Me Luck":
scrabbling for pennies in dark tiny halls
reading poems I have long since become tired
of.
and I used to think
that men who drove buses
or cleaned out latrines
or murdered men in alleys were
fools.
So why, then--in L.A., anyway--does he remain a sacred cow?
from Los Angeles Times: 'The Pleasures of the Damned' by Charles Bukowski
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