Go to Tibet
Ride a camel.
Read the bible.
Dye your shoes blue.
Grow a beard.
Circle the world in a paper canoe.
Subscribe to The Saturday Evening Post.
Chew on the left side of your mouth only.
Marry a woman with one leg and shave with a straight razor.
And carve your name in her arm. Brush your teeth with gasoline.
Sleep all day and climb trees at night.
Be a monk and drink buckshot and beer.
Hold your head under water and play the violin.
Do a belly dance before pink candles.
Kill your dog.
Run for mayor.
Live in a barrel.
Break your head with a hatchet.
Plant tulips in the rain. But don’t write poetry. recording
Read the bible.
Dye your shoes blue.
Grow a beard.
Circle the world in a paper canoe.
Subscribe to The Saturday Evening Post.
Chew on the left side of your mouth only.
Marry a woman with one leg and shave with a straight razor.
And carve your name in her arm. Brush your teeth with gasoline.
Sleep all day and climb trees at night.
Be a monk and drink buckshot and beer.
Hold your head under water and play the violin.
Do a belly dance before pink candles.
Kill your dog.
Run for mayor.
Live in a barrel.
Break your head with a hatchet.
Plant tulips in the rain. But don’t write poetry. recording
Poetry on the run 
Ah, Buke… He suggests, “Don’t try.” I love him, but what if he had followed this advice? We might not have known the pleasure of knowing him at all.
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yeah, a classic case of do as I say, not as I do. If you want to check out what he had to say about the poem here is the link.
http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2013/08/09/charles-bukowski-reads-friendly-advice-to-a-lot-of-young-men/
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Just self-effacing, self-deprecating, down-trodden typical Hank… In the verse his suggestions are absurd, many bordering on sociopathy… and it ends that his life is even more ill-advised… anti-heroism not paternity, not a warning, but, an invitation…
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