The Minute by Charles Bukowski

“I am always fighting for the next
minute,” I tell my wife.
then she begins to tell me
how mistaken I am.
wives have a way of not believing what their husbands
tell them.

the minute is a very sacred
thing.
I have fought for each one since my
childhood.
I continue to fight for each one.
I have never been bored or
at a loss what to do next.
even when I do nothing,
I am utilizing my time.

why people must go to
amusement parks or movies
or sit in front of tv sets
or work crossword puzzles
or go to picnics
or visit relatives
or travel
or do most of the things
they do
is beyond me.
they mutilate minutes,
hours,
days,
lifetimes.

they have no idea of how
precious is a
minute.

I fight to realize the essence
of my time.
this doesn’t mean that
I can’t relax
and take an hour off
but it must be
my choosing.

to fight for each minute is to
fight for what is possible within
yourself,
so that your life and your death
will not be like theirs.

be not like them
and you will
survive.

minute by
minute.

— Charles Bukowski, the minute