talking Bukowski

Tj Struska

hung out with Penn

drinking 7’s at The Mermaid 

3 am with cheap tacos

on the corner

as cars hiss up

the avenue

with faces

unnamed as clouds

as death

moves lipid

through darkness 

looking for

the next customer 


in a one room

bleeding Ezra Pound

with dreams

of butter blondes 

and birds

eating seeds

from my hand 

as my


crawl back




  • Author: TS James (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: August 6th, 2022 03:40
  • Comment from author about the poem: I feel a kinship to Bukowski, unlike these middle class white men who fantasize about slumming like him- I lived that life through my twenties and early thirty’s, living in one rooms, sleeping off jobs, Winding up with some bar scag, it ain’t pretty, romance it all you want to it’s real, my style is not so different from his because my life was not so different than his, and like him, I slowly climbed up and out of that when people around me died. This is my tribute to The Man
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 11


  • MendedFences27

    And a fine tribute at that. I've read some Bukowski and this seems true to the man. It follows his general pattern of sort of rambling and also has some of his brilliant phrasings. Nice work. - Phil A.

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