The eNotes Blog Happy Birthday Bukowski

Happy Birthday Bukowski There are so many quotes I could draw from that would be emblematic of the character of Charles Bukowski, the larger-than-life poet, novelist, alcoholic, and grim prophet of love. But today, on the day he would have turned 92, I choose two nights before my 72nd birthday. Written exactly two decades ago, shortly before his death of leukemia, the poem calmly, almost ambivalently, reflects on aging and death. Bukowski seems drained of all the lingering angst from his difficult childhood, only amazed at the fact hes lasted this long and grateful for his glass of cabernet and the warm night. Its pleasant to think of him admiring lifes simplicities, not really wanting or regretting, merely enjoying what would be his second-to-last birthday. That night, I think, a secret bluebird gave a little whistle somewhere. sitting here on a boiling hot night while drinking a bottle of cabernet sauvignon after winning $232 at the track. theres not much I can tell you except if it werent for my bad right leg I dont feel much different than I did 30 or 40 years ago (except that now I have more money and should be able to afford a decent burial). also, I drive better automobiles and have stopped carrying a switchblade. I am still looking for a hero, a role model, but cant find one. I am no more tolerant of Humanity than I ever was. I am not bored with myself and find that I am the only one I can turn to in time of crisis. Ive been ready to die for decades and Ive been practicing, polishing up for that end but its very hot tonight and I can think of little but this fine cabernet, thats gift enough for me. sometimes I cant believe Ive come this far, this has to be some kind of goddamned miracle! just another old guy blinking at the forces, smiling a little, as the cities tremble and the left hand rises, clutching something real. Happy Birthday Bukowski.