So, here he is, Charles mother-fuckin' Bukowski.
the last of my cover poets.
he is especially pertinent to me today.
from the time that i go to my shitty job this afternoon,
to when i return to my empty house and full bottles
bukowski will be on my mind.
his book, dog-eared a thousand times over,
will be held tight under my arm.
post your favorite bukowski poems here.
since i can't pick a favorite i am just picking one at random:
see here, you
blazing bastard fools
poets
with your
idiot scrolls
you are so
pompous
in your knowledge
so
assured
that you are
on a hot roll
to
nirvana
you
soft lumps of
humanity
you imiatators of
other
pretenders
you are still
in
the shadow of
the
mother
you
have never
bargained with
the
beast
you have never
tasted
the full flavor of
hell
you have never
seen
the edge of
yourself
you have never
been alone
with the
razor-sharp
walls
you
blazing bastard fools
with your
idiot scrolls
there is nothing
to
know
no place
to
travel
your
lives
your
deaths
your
idiot
scrolls
useless
disgusting
and
not as real
as
the
wart
on the ass
of
a
hog.
you
are rejected by
circumstance.
good
bye.
11:17 a.m. - 2007-03-16
Recent entries:
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