The Track
I know why Bukowski went to the
racetrack so often:
to be around other people–
be near but
not of
humanity;
and then
return
to his typewriter and
cigars
and ubiquitous bottle of
whatever
in his room
alone
a misanthrope and
hater of the herd,
and like a god who despises
the material
he works with.
I agree.
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