Bukowski on Excuses

I hesitate to reproduce the whole thing for fear of copyright violation, but just came across a favorite poem of mine by Charles Bukowski (I was intruduced to it by singer/educator/funnywoman extraordinaire Madeline Eastman at Stanford Jazz Camp a few years ago. Here's an excerpt:

no baby, if you're going to create
you're going to create whether you work 16 hours a day in a coal mine
or
you're going to create in a small room
with 3 children while you're on
welfare...

baby, air and light and time and space
have nothing to do with it
and don't create anything
except maybe a longer life to find
new excuses
for.