I especially enjoy this poem on page 51 because it captures the odd beauty that can be found in unexpected places. It hit me personally because I often feel that I am more affected by things such as lines of motionless boxcars than my peers. Sometimes a glimpse of a trailer park or public bathroom or trash in the park catches me off guard and pierces me to the core. I felt a real kinship for Bukowski that he felt similarly, and I admired that he illustrated it without sounding too uppity or flowery.
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