I sat alone in the middle of a bench in a full waiting room waiting to get blood drawn and he sat next to me so I moved over to the end of the bench and he gruffed
"I'm not going to bite you
You didn't have to move over so far."
He took it personal and I felt bad because he was the kind who needed a friend but what he didn't know is that I would have rather been anywhere than in a crowded anything room

Bukowski's later years weren't so bad
he lived in a nice house
with a swimming pool in the back yard
drove a BMW
didn't drink so much
enjoyed the success of discovery
sold books and movies
and never gave in again

believe me, I would fix me if I could
I would use all the right words
repent of all the right sins
do all the right things
make amends again and again
I have walked that road too many times
and I am weary of fixing me
I'd rather live and see what happens
even if it ends up a pile of broken bones