Too much of a good thing
can always end up
throwing you off.
For example: I've been reading
entirely too much Bukowski
lately.
I wanted to write a poem
about a family sitting down
to Thanskgiving dinner,
and the crazy uncle
whips it out.
Instead of writing a dissertation,
I'll just remind you,
dear reader,
to be thankful for
every single daisy
and every single
beer.
That's the Bukowski talking.