Tag Archives: Bukowski

I took Bukowski out me

I took Bukowski out me dangling between fingers a raindrop he tries to get back but I won’t let him I drop him in a meadow and Chuck cusses the flowers   Advertisements

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singing in that rib cage

go to the cupboard the wrong remedy fall on the ground leaves are falling their small lives given life and afterlife? perhaps into that sad forest tired of Chuck’s bluebird singing in that rib cage  

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rough beauty

I’d wondered why I loved Bukowski rough beauty is real it’s sink dishes cockroach infested boxes you looking your worst when my heart leaps and loves I have no answers to this loveliness rough beauty it’s always been Bukowski’s world … Continue reading

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I’d like to write like Bukowski

I’d like to write like Bukowski but he says ‘if you’re trying to write like somebody else, forget about it.’ others say everyone has a Bukowski year it’s been two decades  

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Bukowski bluebird days

Bukowski bluebird days the heart skies happen  

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you open a carton

you open a carton you never know if you’re running to pain or from it it’s like Bukowski spinning his knife  

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I want to tell you Charles Bukowski

I want to tell you Charles Bukowski that I play So You Want To Be A Writer that I downloaded from YouTube just as loud as I play AC/DC  

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