Saturday, July 26, 2008

Bukowski


Had I seen you on the street
I would have pittied you.
Poor soul, look
at that face.
Those scars.
And always with
a bottle.
Poor soul.
Spewing vulgar
words.
Too many cigs.
But I know
your soul was rich.
And I would
now
give anything
to see you
on the street.

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