Reading Bukowski usually feels like being punched in the face and liking it. This one is surprsingly gentle, like an affectionate pat on the face. Beautiful.
Because of some scenes in his first movie, the bird with the crystal plumes, in which he created a sort of diner inspired by Hopper, in Florence. Check out the sets, inspired by Mario Bava of his movies... They're gorgeous... IMO
I remember feeling very much like this almost fifty years ago when I and a few friends from Pittsburgh stopped in a small family diner in Wheeling, West Virginia. It was a winter night but not so cold that year. (Snow didn’t fall until January.)
Father, mother and their kids ran it very well.
There was a unique atmosphere to the cafe made even better by the warmth and good nature of this family. They weren’t rich in money but definitely in sincerity. The father came over to take our orders. Everyone else asked for a burger, fries and a Coke. But I wanted to look at the menu.
My eyes stopped when I got to sweat potato pie. I had never tasted it and had heard so many good things about it.
He joked with us but I suspect more with me in a very welcome way because I ordered something that was a specialty of theirs.
It was one of those rare moments when everything seemed to hum in harmony, to click like a well-tuned wooden clock.
I watched as the mother carefully cut a piece from a freshly baked pie, so fresh I felt like a crow alighting on a still warm apple pie placed on a window ledge, immensely captivated and hungry.
One of the young men came over and very politely asked if I wanted something to drink with it. I had hoped they had a perfect match to the pie so that, like Mighty Manfred, I could float just on thinking about such a combination.
He suggested a cup of New Orleans coffee, the kind flavored with chicory.
I have yet to find a restaurant that compares with it although Chef’s in St. Petersburg has come extremely close.
I just wish I could have spent more time there or at least remembered the name of that dining experience, so simple yet so delicious. I swear when she made that pie she added a lot of love to it.
Though Bukowski is often grungy and vulgar in his writing, he is such a wonderful writer. The ability to use sharp, pungent words to articulate his emotions and beliefs is something that is both difficult and beautiful. Sad to think this is another beautiful poem lost in our world.
Hi! Thank you for your wonderful content! Do you have any tips on formatting poetry on substack? I use the poetry block but the line breaks don’t seem to work on mobile.
Reading Bukowski usually feels like being punched in the face and liking it. This one is surprsingly gentle, like an affectionate pat on the face. Beautiful.
Being punched in the face and liking it - It takes a rare genius to pull that off and Bukowski was it.
Like a painting by Hopper or a Dario Argento movie.
Yes! Radiohead’s Kid A has a similar effect on me. A perfect moment of melancholic ease…
Made us think of Simon and Garfunkel's ´America'
Dario Argento? How? His movies are so violent. I don't get the connection.
Because of some scenes in his first movie, the bird with the crystal plumes, in which he created a sort of diner inspired by Hopper, in Florence. Check out the sets, inspired by Mario Bava of his movies... They're gorgeous... IMO
I have felt this. Lived this. What a beautiful reflection of something many of us feel when travelling.
I never knew Bukowski could be this tender.
I remember feeling very much like this almost fifty years ago when I and a few friends from Pittsburgh stopped in a small family diner in Wheeling, West Virginia. It was a winter night but not so cold that year. (Snow didn’t fall until January.)
Father, mother and their kids ran it very well.
There was a unique atmosphere to the cafe made even better by the warmth and good nature of this family. They weren’t rich in money but definitely in sincerity. The father came over to take our orders. Everyone else asked for a burger, fries and a Coke. But I wanted to look at the menu.
My eyes stopped when I got to sweat potato pie. I had never tasted it and had heard so many good things about it.
He joked with us but I suspect more with me in a very welcome way because I ordered something that was a specialty of theirs.
It was one of those rare moments when everything seemed to hum in harmony, to click like a well-tuned wooden clock.
I watched as the mother carefully cut a piece from a freshly baked pie, so fresh I felt like a crow alighting on a still warm apple pie placed on a window ledge, immensely captivated and hungry.
One of the young men came over and very politely asked if I wanted something to drink with it. I had hoped they had a perfect match to the pie so that, like Mighty Manfred, I could float just on thinking about such a combination.
He suggested a cup of New Orleans coffee, the kind flavored with chicory.
I have yet to find a restaurant that compares with it although Chef’s in St. Petersburg has come extremely close.
I just wish I could have spent more time there or at least remembered the name of that dining experience, so simple yet so delicious. I swear when she made that pie she added a lot of love to it.
Brought out old memories for me of fresh donuts lifted out of the fryer and rolled in powdered sugar. So big in my hungry after swim practice eyes
I loved the typo! And your storytelling is heartwarming and deeply revelatory.
Sorry. That should have been sweet potato pie.
Though Bukowski is often grungy and vulgar in his writing, he is such a wonderful writer. The ability to use sharp, pungent words to articulate his emotions and beliefs is something that is both difficult and beautiful. Sad to think this is another beautiful poem lost in our world.
Thank you for sharing beautiful works that move one to imagine and reflect.
Hank is a legend read all his stuff love all of it
Buk set down those lines a couple of strips of crisp bacon
The amazing CB. The young man should have stayed.....
Bukowski is at his sentimental best.
We all dream of escaping the pressures and monotony of daily life. This poem reminds me of the Twilight Zone episode "A Stop at Willoughby."
Here's a brief summary of that episode:
https://youtu.be/Dy4FHOKIWzo?si=wsPFjwtzJv8K08j3
Addendum: Bukowski had a peculiarly sentimental element in some of his poems. His recitation of his poem "The Shower" is surprisingly poignant.
https://youtu.be/Td678VDxYWk?si=MIDyJKYsE0T8puWr
Oof
Hi! Thank you for your wonderful content! Do you have any tips on formatting poetry on substack? I use the poetry block but the line breaks don’t seem to work on mobile.
I like poetry that makes sense. This poem makes sense.
Bukowski's answer to Hemingway's "A Clean, Well-lighted Place"?
Thank you.
I really like the free verse piece the inherent lyric quality is subdued and quite lovely. Thanks for it.