The sun is shining and the morning air floats
Past my legs with cold, but waking intentions
I’ve discovered Charles Bukowski and it’s opened my mind and passion
For learning again
Who would have thought? It’s been a while since I actually sat down and read
“Bonaparte’s Retreat” - one of Bukowski’s poems
Made me sad and I cried. Words can do that
“you can explore the trappings of your own mind personified through the words of another.”
From someone online, somewhere
I found that especially capturing because it is true
I can feel Bukowski’s intent through his words
Fred was a lonely man who sat at the bar
Everyday and drank and drank and slept then repeated
Everyday he put the song on the jukebox: Bonaparte’s Retreat
Over and over and over
And the patrons grew tired of it - they heard it so often
With no context…
If there were context would it be ok on repeat?
I wonder; did Fred lose a woman; a friend; a dog; a life; a child
Who was Fred before?
What lead him to the lonely barstool with the flowing beer
I looked up the song, Bonaparte’s Retreat and listened to the song
And read it twice more as I listened to the folky violins and banjo pickin
I\'m not sure if I listened to the right song, but I liked it
I imagine a skinny man home from the coal mine
Standing on the porch with suspenders and dirty white t-shirt
A straw hat and moonshine bottle with xxx on it
In hand staring blankly at me as I pass
Listening to the song himself
Fred died alone with no one to talk to
In the poem, after he died, Bukowski
Wanted to hear the song again but
Instead the bar tender violently took out the record
From the Jukebox
And said
“It was his song”
But I listened to it on my phone
All morning