When the Bulls run

 Hemingway feels it from the grave

every time the bulls run through the streets of

Pamplona

again

he sits up

the skeleton rattles

the skull wants a drink

the eyeholes want sunlight

the young bulls are beautiful,

Ernest

and you were

too

no matter

what they say

now.

~ Bukowski

angels and spy cams

 Mechanical eyes

As a child

I’d lay in the grass

looking up at the stars

wondering if they were watching

us.

Now I know they do

Mechanical eyes

Orbiting above

counting our key strokes

and listening to our

phones

a list of sins

 

“...great writers are indecent people they live unfairly saving the best part for paper. good human beings save the world so that bastards like me can keep creating art, become immortal. if you read this after I am dead it means I made it.” -Bukowski

The Public Library is a church

 The Public

Library is a church

In the library

knowledge seekers,

help seekers,

Those seeking company,

those wanting to be alone

Those seeking to find themselves,

those seeking to lose themselves

and those with no place

else to go.

The library is a church

and knowledge is a sacrement.