Nirvana Poem by Charles Bukowski

Nirvana

Charles Bukowskinot much chance,completely cut loose frompurpose,he was a young manriding a busthrough North Carolinaon the wat to somewhereand it began to snowand the bus stoppedat a little cafein the hillsand the passengersentered.he sat at the counterwith the others,he ordered and thefood arived.the meal wasparticularlygoodand thecoffee.the waitress wasunlike the womenhe hadknown.she was unaffected,there was a naturalhumor which camefrom her.the fry cook saidcrazy things.the dishwasher.in back,laughed, a goodcleanpleasantlaugh.the young man watchedthe snow through thewindows.he wanted to stayin that cafeforever.the curious feelingswam through himthat everythingwasbeautifulthere,that it would alwaysstay beautifulthere.then the bus drivertold the passengersthat it was timeto board.the young manthought, I'll just sithere, I'll just stayhere.but thenhe rose and followedthe others into thebus.he found his seatand looked at the cafethrough the buswindow.then the bus movedoff, down a curve,downward, out ofthe hills.the young manlooked straightforeward.he heard the otherpassengersspeakingof other things,or they werereadingorattempting tosleep.they had notnoticedthemagic.the young manput his head toone side,closed hiseyes,pretended tosleep.there was nothingelse to do-just to listen to thesound of theengine,the sound of thetiresin thesnow.***"

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