squat naked and cough

i’m 36 and a poet
so at some point
i have to compose my
obligatory fucking bukowski poem

today is the day
for me to
squat naked and cough

what a dick bag he was

i despise the way he makes me
keep my eyes transfixed

on the broken backwards bones
of the fallen tight rope act

whilst smiling
at the red poetry pooling
on the circus tent floor

but who am i kidding
that’s an outright lie
it is precisely why i love him

because
terrible people
make the best writers

the beetles who fed on chuck’s corpse
and his readers

i’m sure
would agree