top of page

He'd Hate Us

I’m just the guy

who once fell for a woman

who read Bukowski

I bet there’s a lot of guys out there like me.

We should start a club–

get beers every Thursday

and rub our bellies

We should go to the tracks

and gamble away what little money we have,

and if we win,

we must spend it all on cheap wine.

On Mondays

we fuck each others wives-

and all the women in our dirty city

We must throw rocks at the blue birds

and push our junker cars to start them

On Saturdays nights

we can meet at the drunk tank

and there we can bitch about the women that broke our hearts

We can stumble through the streets

pretending to be hard men.

Let’s fight each other

and then drink more afterwards.

And we must never


under any circumstance

tell people we are writers.

That’s the number one rule of the ‘Bukowski Boys’

It’s a horrible name, I know fellas, but we must keep it simple, that’s the way he’d want it.

He’d hate us

Oh I’m sure he would

He’d hate that he inspired a generation of drunk idiot poets.

He would stick up his middle finger and tell us to be original.

But let us chug our drinks,

and give him the finger right back.

Sorry Chuck,

you’ve passed the torch,

we will be the new horny, drunk, poor, dirty, bitter, poets.

You just let us take it from here.


4 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

A few years ago, there was rattling noise coming from one of the wheels on my car. I took it into the shop, and a man handed me a bunch of bolts and nuts, and things that I had no idea what they were.

They danced together. They kissed each other. They smelled the other one. They held onto each other tightly. They fell in love. Then, they got married. They went on a honeymoon. They made a child. The

Maybe it is all a dream? Whose to tell me that it isn’t? Would you? Could you? Would you try to wake me up? . . . It was all a dream Inside the mind of a man Who fell asleep Years ago In his bed is wh

Post: Blog2_Post
bottom of page