By Charles Bukowski from a new collection of (mostly) unpublished poems, The Continual Condition.

thanks for the luck

at this time
I no longer have to work
the nightclubs, the universities,
the bookstores
I no longer have to tell the freshman English class
at the U. of Nebraska (Omaha)
at 11 a.m. while sitting
at a yellow elevated desk
why I did it
how I did it
and what they might do in order to do
it for
themselves

I don’t mind the plane flights back
with the businessmen
all of us drinking doubles
and looking out past the wing
trying to relax
grateful that we were not on skid row
knowing we had certain abilities
(so far)
which have saved us from that.

I may have to do it all again, but
right now I am where I belong:
passing over my own Grand Canyon
on schedule
no seat belt
no stewardess
no lost luggage.

(via Caitypoops)

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