March 30, 2024.
“What is that even supposed to mean?”, I asked
A laugh rattled around in his chest and between coughs,
he says, “I’ve had too much to drink, maybe”
“Sounds like it. Go to bed, Bukowski.”
“Who’s that?”, he rubs his raw nose
“Some poet. Bought a book of his recently.”
“Any good? - your face is answering that for me.”
“No. I liked it.”, I rose my hands in mock defense
“You make that face every time you like something?”
“Just you, sour candy, and Bukowski.”
“Oh, a real honor. Truly."
Poetry by aidan haskel
Read 131 times
Written on 2024-03-31 at 00:16
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go to bed, bukowski
“Even light.. breaks”, he whispers dreamily“What is that even supposed to mean?”, I asked
A laugh rattled around in his chest and between coughs,
he says, “I’ve had too much to drink, maybe”
“Sounds like it. Go to bed, Bukowski.”
“Who’s that?”, he rubs his raw nose
“Some poet. Bought a book of his recently.”
“Any good? - your face is answering that for me.”
“No. I liked it.”, I rose my hands in mock defense
“You make that face every time you like something?”
“Just you, sour candy, and Bukowski.”
“Oh, a real honor. Truly."
Poetry by aidan haskel
Read 131 times
Written on 2024-03-31 at 00:16
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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