Bukowski

[karma_apple]

Bukowski just has that way of striking a chord.


slim killers
by charles bukowski

there are 4 guys at the door
all 6 feet four
and checking in at
around 210 pounds,
slim killers.
come in, I say,
and they walk in with their drinks
and circle the old man --
so you're Bukowski, eh?
yeh, you fucking killers, what do you
want?
well, we don't have a car
and Lee needs a ride to this nightspot
in Hollywood.
let's go, I say.
we get into my car
all of us drunk, and
somebody in back says,
we've been reading your poetry a long time,
Bukowski, and I say,
I've been writing it a long time,
kid. we dump Lee at the nightspot
then stop off for enough beer and cigars
to demolish the
stratosphere.
back at my place I sit with the killers and
we drink and smoke.
it is somehow enjoyable.
I find I can outdrink and outsmoke them
but I realize that in areas such as fights on
the front lawn
my day is done.
the motherfuckers are just getting too young and
too big.
after they pass out
I give each of them a pillow and a blanket
and make sure all the cigars are
out.

in the morning they were just 3 big kids
untrapped, a couple of them
heaving in the bathroom.
an hour later
they were gone.

readers of my poems
I can't say that
I disliked them.