Bukowski I read your words
And they echo through me,
Vibrate my bones and chatter in my teeth.
I have to fight channeling
Your voice in my own
But sometimes I really don't
Want to at all.
You were a magnificent
Scumbag.
For all your drinking
Fucking fighting
And staring at the ceiling
During hung mornings,
You echoed the emptiness
In all of us
That most of us
Just won't admit.
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