Poetry Sunday: For the Foxes
While searching for a poem to be featured this week, something on the theme of September, I came across a poem called For the Foxes by Charles Bukowski. I'm not really familiar with the poetry of Bukowski. In fact, I knew little about him beyond his name. He was a bit of a maverick among poets who wrote, as one critic said, "from the frayed edge of society."
The experiences that he drew on for inspiration for his poetry are very different from my own and I can't claim to fully understand what he has written, and yet I really like For the Foxes. The image of people who fidget and complain and constantly rearrange their lives like furniture; the warning to beware of those who only take instructions from their God; those who juggle mates and attitudes in constant confusion - I know these people.
But why the heck did he call the poem For the Foxes? I have no idea, but I find my lack of understanding is no barrier to my enjoyment.
For the Foxes
by Charles Bukowski
don't feel sorry for me.
I am a competent, satisfied human being. be sorry for the others who fidget complain who constantly rearrange their lives like furniture. juggling mates and attitudes their confusion is constant and it will touch whoever they deal with. beware of them: one of their key words is "love." and beware those who only take instructions from their God for they have failed completely to live their own lives. don't feel sorry for me because I am alone
for even at the most terrible moments humor is my companion. I am a dog walking backwards I am a broken banjo I am a telephone wire strung up in Toledo, Ohio I am a man eating a meal this night in the month of September. put your sympathy aside. they say water held up Christ: to come through you better be nearly as lucky.