[...] you say you feel this madness. what do you do when it comes  upon you?
I write poetry.
is poetry madness?
non-poetry is ugliness.
what is ugly?
to each man, something different.
does ugliness belong?
it's there.
does it belong?
I don't know, sir.
you pretend knowledge. what is knowledge?
knowing as little as possible.
how can that be?
I don't know, sir.
can you build a bridge?
no, sir.
can you make a gun?
no, sir.
these things are the products of knowledge.
these things are bridges and guns.
- Fra Charles Bukowskis Notes of a dirty old man