I watched a documentary about Charles Bukowski , "Born Into This". He reminded me of my late grandfather so much, that I kept watching it night after night to feel like I was hanging with Grampa Bob again. I learned something: I'm attracted to broken things and broken people. I gravitate towards the low-life, late-night, dark bar rooms filled with men who can't seem to get it right. Because somewhere in there, is a Bukowski, a Hunter, a Kerouac and their artistry. After the 3rd night, I wrote this......
I'm attracted to broken things.
The one who played it safe,
experience was not my teacher.
I'm attracted to broken things
and the exact point
where beauty pulls itself from carnage.
I'm attracted to broken things.
The assuredness of rock bottom
and the men who drink for work.
Men have never gotten over themselves.
The planet, the sun, the stars revolve around man
or so he would have them believe.
