Greatest Dead Angelenos #10 Charles Bukowski
October 18, 2007 at 7:01 am in Uncategorized
The Only Way I Think I Can Do This One.
Bukowski, you mad bastard,
how did you do it?
careening through Los Angeles
writing songs to the unsung
Van Gogh
painting potato eaters
with words for paint
and whores for farmers
they saved the Post Office
years and years of disgruntled Hank
when Black Sparrow paid for your pen
100 dollars a month for the rest of your life
to type out the sickness that stuck
in your head
that other guy
with the gun
do you think he could have been saved?
the place where you lived then
the year I was born
where you ate,
and shat,
and fucked,
they want to turn it into a historic landmark
while video tapes of “Barfly” sell for hundreds on eBay
I can see you laughing
great beast of a man
then reaching for a drink
and clinking the ice
I doubt I’ll get famous
in Europe
for writing this Blog Post
I doubt Parisian girls
will line up to tell me
“I loved your entry
on Metblogs
to Bukowski.”
but Parisian girls are strange
it’s hard to say
they would have for you
but that’s not the point
and you know it
the point is
we could have partied, you and I
you’d have beat the shit out of me
and I’d have kicked you in the balls
but it wouldn’t matter
we’d just get up later and drink more
though you were recommended to me years before
before, even, the cancer took you
I’m glad I didn’t find your words until after
I quit drinking
because I think you might have
killed me
even if you were already dead by then
you mad fuck
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