My Mom’s Visiting from California, and I’m Busy Chauffeuring Her and the Kids Around Town to Clang in the the Trolley, Toot in the Train, Bob in the Lake, Strike (Out) in the Bowling Alley, and Gnosh on Sweet Treats, So I Haven’t a Breaf in My Body Left for the Blogging I Really Want to Do–All of Which, In Sum, Means I’m Quickly Tossing Out a Poem I Love, One That Captures My Current August Zing

Indeed, this poem has a summertime feeling for me–bright and cornucopial and ticking along. I’d like to fancy myself the woman in this poem, but the truth is I’m more the lucky fool. THE RED PORSCHE By Charles Bukowski it … Continue reading