Chopin Bukowski
this is my piano.
the phone rings and people ask,
what are you doing? how about
getting drunk with us?
and I say,
I’m at my piano.
what?
I’m at my piano.
I hang up.
people need me. I fill
them. if they can’t see me
for a while they get desperate, they get
sick.
but if I see them too often
I get sick. it’s hard to feed
without getting fed.
my piano says things back to
me.
sometimes the things are
scrambled and not very good.
other times
I get as good and lucky as
Chopin.
sometimes I get out of practice
out of tune. that’s
all right.
I can sit down and vomit on the
keys
but it’s my
vomit.
it’s better than sitting in a room
with 3 or 4 people and
their pianos.
this is my piano
and it is better than theirs.
and they like it and they do not
like it.
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