I'm going through a dry spell.  I thought a challenge would be fun. Write your best tribute to Charles Bukowski poem or write a poem that could be a lost poem of Bukowskis'.  He is my favorite writer and I thought maybe this Challenge would break my writer's block.  Be sure to put in the Author's notes the mention that it is a poemfor the Thomas w. Case/ Bukowski challenge.

I keep searching
for the line.
A line that
straightens my
posture,
unsnarls my
eyebrows, and gives
the bathroom mirror
a better
reflection.

I keep searching
for a line that
stops the midgets
from crying,
that heals the
lame dog's leg,
and slow the
ticking clock.

I keep searching for the line,
one that gets
me laid by
the librarian;
that takes the
eagle from the city;
that gives the
****** hope, and
the hobos a home.  

I keep searching for the line...

How do you think
it feels to be
poor and insane,
looking for
doorways to sleep
in, to creep in out
from the rain?

As a little boy,
I used to fish in
a small quiet
pond on the west
side of town,
catching bluegills in
the young afternoon sun;
sleepy neighborhood,
low crime, safe and serene.
I owned those
autumn days long
ago, bought cheap; the price
of a dozen night crawlers,
and a bobber.

At thirty nine years old,
one October
afternoon, I stumbled
back to my own little
Walden.
Not much had
changed, the old
wooden steps on the
east side of the
pond were still
there. I crawled
under them, ******
myself and passed out,
dreaming of
bluegills, cattails
and young easy autumn
days.

I can't fit
in your
pocket,
that kind
of love
is too
much.
Such a
dreamy
coffin,
when all
I wanted
was
your
touch.

I dreamed that I had
a boat on a leash,
which was strange
because moments before,
I had it in the ocean,
and I was fishing off
the starboard side.
My nephew was with me
and he got us lost.

We dragged that boat all
over Ventura.
We were looking for
the marina.
The longer that the boat
was on the leash,
the smaller it got.
Pretty soon it was
just a toy, a poisoned
dog that we
threw in the trash.

I took my girlfriend
for breakfast at Ruby Tuesday,
We both had waffles
and I felt a sense of
Satisfaction from the sublime
maple syrup.  On our way out
the waitress said, don't be
a stranger, I Miss You.
At the time, me and the
old lady were homeless,
it began to rain, she
cried and said, please baby
Gimme Shelter.
Don't worry, I said,
I'm gonna come to
your Emotional Rescue.
She cried even harder,
and I said, Angie I know
it *****, but You Cant Always
Get What You Want.
Truth be told, we're just
Tumbling Dice.
But we're Happy.
And through her tears, she smiled
and said, you will always be
Under my Thumb~