name dropping – america bukowski and me
if i had drank
and spilled myself forward
into time’s zero gravity
through
the loving eyes of a dog lipped girl
kissing me in morning
while i wonder
how to climb past her and forgetthen i would wander the empty
sunday morning street
back to my one room
slatted and leaking cheap rent by the week home
(neon and shattered dreams)
cursing the face of bukowski
lying down to drown in the brown mucous of empathy
curled in a knot
pained and pathetic
a whimperbut
i would rise again
to leaf through new days
lie to new women
drink to new gods
and pretend that
america
charles bukowski and i
were freindsthis and the blessing of forgetfulness
become my blisstip the waitress for me, will ya’
a bad drug induced dream
there is a dry heat
which comes from a space heater
gas
and an orange light
sets
like a heavy hue
over the darknessand i can see her eyes
nothing else
but her eye
and they move and change
inside a kaleidoscope
twisting
eyesi had a dream
filled with demons
eating a corpse
supping on its crooked grey penisthey looked up as i woke
wondering how i crossed from world to world
asleep and awake at the same time
dreaming in both worlds
attacked and attached
to each nightmarish
facethe demons looking at me
and of course
i looked back
wishing to also be eating the dead
necrophiliait was the opium
my poor nephew is dying
drug addicted
toothless
and gone.
Mike Klumpp is among my favorite poets. I wish he would write more. Love these two poems!