On march 10, 1994
Charles bukowski died
Heartbreak
Im going to miss that man
Of poems
Books
Short stories what they call
Spoken word performances
Hank told the truth in
All things all things
Men women
Hope despair
Lonliness isolation
In peace when he could find it
The bottle woman.
Writing it all down on paper.
Hank who helped me find my way
Wasnt his intention
In the 1980s
In new york city
Mr steve and i
Working for a slumlord
Found factorum
And were reborn!
Saw ourselves there on the page
Drinking fucking up drinking
Make a couple of bucks and
Run to the park inn.
With crazy negative girlfriends
Just like hank
Saying me too!
Seeing myself and
Feeling like maybe im not
The disaster i thought i was
I loved this man
I loved this mans work
I took solace in hank
Who never failed to knock me out
Still does still does
Always will
Los angeles on buk died
Hanks city
Hes gone
Sad
But hes always gonna be there
For me and you
Oh hank! great revealer!
Brutal truth teller! giant man of letters and stories and poems
Youre free now hit that triford muthafucker
Fly hank, soar
Drink fuck sleep and dream
And i will never forget
And i will spread your idea
That kindness is
Just about the best we can do.
