It was the tenth printing of the
first hardcover edition
of his 1992 book Septuagenarian
Stew: Stories & Poems.

I never had a hardcover Bukowski
before—all the others
have been paperback reprints.

I read it while dad motors the boat,
looking for brim
and for catfish and for
a way to get in the shade
without hitting the bank.

Holding the Black Sparrow covers
in my hands,
between my fingers,

I am suddenly
more conscious of

the way that the boat rocks
back and forth
from the waves
and my dad’s movement

from one side to the other.

It is as though I am of two minds: one
keeps to the books and looks for
some kind of good line.

The other focuses on the water
for the very same thing

in not too far off places.

Fantastic work. Greatly enjoyed this!

Take care!

Thanks. Joker.