Nuisance

Poisoned

Harder to be obscure

Or to organize

 

But it may be better

Because you don’t know

Who, or where you are

 

Maybe your liver

Will get better

Not likely

 

Even though

This Oriental glow remains

Drinking just the same

 

Fucking god fucking damnit

Charles Bukowski

How I realize

 

How similar I am

To the likes of you

When I’m deep into brews

 

My poetry is awful

More than raw

Dripping mediocrity

 

Oh, Bukowski

How you disgust me

And how I hate myself as well

Leftover Beer and Melting Shadows

Image
by Stephanie Gonzalez

I am not ungrateful

designate a meaning

arbitrarily,

the fake white beard

becomes intolerable

you sound like Elvis

howling plagiarism

to stupid girls

and now old men

you deserved

your end

translucent

face with makeup

shimmering waste

trying to catch

another glimpse

softly petting

your rough hands

it doesn’t get

any worse than this

disgust and apathy

ironically mix

in this microscopic blender

there is no listen,

only hear,

I don’t mind,

I just get the job done

these sores are representations

of humility and disgrace

when did the ground become

so distant

Ignore Everything

All that time you knew a warm,

moving death

There were men who shook their brooms

to tight fantasies

“Hello, I’m going to hurt you so I can get off.”

The idea that everything pushed in and out

The condescending sliding was disgusting

The wrinkles, veins, ulcers, all twinkled with delight

while the soft pores cried

You killed your child

after it was too late

He was dancing on the altar

while we were weeping at the tabernacle

The sheep continued to stare