Dear Bukowski, you almost had me fooled
with that whole myth thing that you got going
and I think you tricked many
others too, but only in a worse way…
just as Burroughs and Cobain inadvertently
created so many junkies
so did you create a good many limp dick alcoholic poets
of hungover Buddhas and unfinished novels.
They didn’t know that that fascist
father of yours was actually good for something
by leaving you a nice
chunk of cash.
It didn’t make you rich but it sure
must’ve helped during
the crazy women, the bar fights, the blackouts, the losing streaks
the small minds, the tightfisted bosses
and the dimly lit rooms.
You almost had me fooled.
But I’m not knocking you. You were insane
and you told many lies
but you were right about so many things too.
You were a cheapskate
and many times a despicable human being
but you were also
a smart gambler
humor and poetry out of
And for that
I give thanks