i have grown tired of the stupid cat,
because i forget all about her
of the sheets of paper that keep flying off the desk
i don't even sit at any more,
The dog's chin touches mine
in a manner and at a time i can never remember
O how i wish there were bottles dry enough to drop your head in,
Without the throat and with my genitals hanging outside my underwear
all cold and too proud of their audacity
I howl to the sky every night,standing on a hill of dirt
it took me years to accumulate
The dog waits for fingers to be pointed up
His lazy ass not worth kicking at unlike mine,i think
i wonder if they agree with me on anything
except barking at the people in the streets below
and being subtle when you can't be smart..Aaahh screw that...and screw you!!
i don't know enough of bukowski to know your jumping off point but i don't need to know, i think. i know his attitude and that is enough. this is great fun but not only fun. it is powerful too. while it doesn't seem you, your essence i can't help but love it. i read it again and again. (the line formation/spacing is a little odd but i wonder if this is a part of the difficulty imposed because of the difficult attitude itself. it works.)
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erin