Charles Bukowski - The Wasted Profession

the wasted profession&10;&10;all the words, you know, it's hard to tell if you're truly on course or on some vanity trip: how much can be said, how much has already been said, and why?&10;other writers' words do me little good, then, why should mine be special?&10;all my words... do they create laughter through the flame?&10;&10;the same poets reading over and&10;over again in the same venues; I am embarrassed for them and for myself:&10;do we really think that we are fashioning speech more unusual than a stock market or weather report?&10;&10;all the words—we type away-on and on—most of us living lives ordinary and without courage are we sick to think that our speech is&10;exceptional?&10;&10;I don't like us and I never did —is there anything worse than a creature who lives only to write poetry?

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