I spent all my cash
on a stripper named Gypsy,
but we vibrated
and now
beams of light
shine from my chest

it's so quiet,
-still-,
softly I hear the
walls vibrate to the
movement of the earth,
and the earth knows
and the walls know
something we would give
every thought for

responsibility
makes a
drunk
out of me

I feel like a liar
when I type words
that don't have much
meaning beyond their meaning,
but,
when the fire
burns out
and I fall back,
asleep,
these words
are simply letters
strewn together
on a computer screen
on a wednesday night
on a couch
in a room
near an ocean

"Stop trying
to explain yourself,
have a little dignity."
this is what a
homeless man
said to me
while he was
*******
on a
sidewalk
in the middle
of town

Bukowski lived in the third
dimension but
wrote in the fourth
when he died he
was released back
into the ever

on and on
and down and around
a winding whirling rabbit hole
to find a stronger whiskey,

if you ever witness
a suicide,
smile, and
wonder what the two
will talk about

"Indulge in
that which
gives you
either
pleasure
or pain,
anything
in between
is a waste
of time,"
I heard these
words uttered,
by whom is
irrelevant