I just received a comment from Angelina. She said that she was glad to have stumbled on my blog and to have had the chance to read something of Bukowski which she could actually enjoy and which wasn´t too depressing. So this poem is specially for her.
I don´t find his work depressing at all. Actually I tend to laugh a lot while reading his books. That may sound strange, but I guess it is the way he describes everything. Often while reading his work, I nod to myself and think he just knows how crazy this world is. Another thing I really like about him is that he doesn´t judge his characters and you can feel his sympathy for them (even if his language may not be very sensitive ;) ).
a symphony orchestra.
there is a thunderstorm,
they are playing a Wagner overture
and the people leave their seats under the trees
and run inside to the pavilion
the women giggling, the men pretending calm,
wet cigarettes being thrown away,
Wagner plays on, and then they are all under the
pavilion. the birds even come in from the trees
and enter the pavilion and then it is the Hungarian
Rhapsody #2 by Lizst, and it still rains, but look,
one man sits alone in the rain
listening. the audience notices him. they turn
and look. the orchestra goes about its
business. the man sits in the night in the rain,
listening. there is something wrong with him,
he came to hear the music.
If I would have been there, I would have joined the man and would haven enjoyed the rain/music.