if i could have anything back
any part of his essence
i would want
his laugh
as life without it has been
no life at all
if i could have anything back
any part of his essence
i would want
his laugh
as life without it has been
no life at all
there are times
i feel like the only person alive
who feels that
one Bukowski
was enough
a woman’s life
is too tenuous
delicate
billowy
spider web
close call on I-75
in preterm labor
on the way to the
Paris airport
in the rain
fragile
beautiful
precious
sacrosanct
finite
for bad friends
bad family
bad coffee
bad shoes
bad mattresses
bad jobs
bad husbands
bad debt
and bad dick
learn this by 30 for maximum
enjoyment
future
female
conquerors
of a dying planet
we were four madcaps deep
in a ratskeller bathroom stall
stoned
within boozy historic walls
one of us pissing
three of us smoking
all of us drinking
3 queens and a king holding court
in the men’s room shitter
gods were made
mushroom euphoric
k-hole bar bouncers lamented
upstairs Nagasaki
our glee
our group dynamic pee
a urinal patron
chimed in
with delighted confusion
so
my lips began
to recite a poem
summoned at will
about buying tickets to the show
spoken word,
nay,
spoken turd, i say
he laughed and applauded
on the other side
of our bomb shelter door
in that moment
we
truly lived
the true measure
of a civilized society
are the rumors
told by its ghosts