tagNon-Erotic PoetryLiving With Bukowski

Living With Bukowski


Imagine living with Bukowski
on the precipice of joy
and tribulation, bumpy
with beer and sandpaper,
poetry spilled all over
the carpet of your days.

Imagine waiting for him
with the motor running
while snow falls furious
as the resolve of his truths.
You'd dry swallow them
word by word, accept
the stained pages.

I don't know if truth
and wisdom are the same,
but if you lived with Buk
you'd wash his shirt,
make sure the keys
don't get lost.

You'd want to punch
his lights out, but you'd
love the raw blasts
of simple insight,
the edgy zen.
would illuminate
the irony in painful
weary rapture.

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byAngeline© 5 comments/ 3314 views/ 1 favorites

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