not much chance,
completely cut loose from
purpose,
he was a young man
riding a bus
through North Carolina
on the wat to somewhere
and it began to snow
and the bus stopped 
at a little cafe
in the hills
and the passengers 
entered.
he sat at the counter
with the others,
he ordered and the 
food arived.
the meal was
particularly
good 
and the
coffee.
the waitress was 
unlike the women
he had
known.
she was unaffected,
there was a natural
humor which came
from her.
the fry cook said
crazy things.
the dishwasher.
in back,
laughed, a good
clean
pleasant
laugh.
the young man watched
the snow through the
windows.
he wanted to stay
in that cafe
forever.
the curious feeling
swam through him
that everything 
was
beautiful
there,
that it would always
stay beautiful
there.
then the bus driver
told the passengers
that it was time
to board.
the young man
thought, I'll just sit
here, I'll just stay
here.
but then
he rose and followed
the others into the
bus.
he found his seat
and looked at the cafe
through the bus
window.
then the bus moved
off, down a curve,
downward, out of
the hills.
the young man 
looked straight 
foreward.
he heard the other
passengers
speaking 
of other things,
or they were
reading
or
attempting to
sleep.
they had not 
noticed 
the
magic.
the young man
put his head to
one side,
closed his
eyes,
pretended to
sleep.
there was nothing
else to do-
just to listen to the
sound of the
engine,
the sound of the 
tires 
in the
snow.

Added: on November 5th, 2005 at 12:51 PM | Viewed: 5351 times | Comments (4)

Poet: Charles Bukowski
Poem: Nirvana

Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, Nirvana, has received 4 comments. Click here to read them, and perhaps post a comment of your own. Of course you can also always discuss poems by Charles Bukowski with others on the American Poems poetry forum!