I don't listen to the classical radio station

because I've never liked the announcer's voice.

Smooth, deep, puts you right to sleep, no lie.

Charles Bukowski may be perfectly content with his classical friends

and their voices, but I prefer

the music only -

la musique seulement.

(Things sound nicer in French sometimes,

more poetic,

than in English with our stark phrases.)

Back to the point about classical, though -

the violins' yearning phrases and the piano's hushed melody

and the thrum of the bass clarinets -

it all fits together, just the way I like it, mostly.

(Another reason I don't listen to classical radio,

they only play the boring stuff.

Nothing beautiful like my Chopin favorites or Brahms or Saint-Saens.

Not even a little Rachmaninoff to give it a little elegant spice,

la spezia de eleganza.)

- And there I go again,

gallivanting off into worlds of language that I pretend to know.

But there you have it -

the pretense is all the enjoyment,

tout le plaisir.