An Argumentative Retort to Charles Bukowski

Please remember this is a very rough draft and one of my most sensitive pieces and was written quickly. I welcome all critique of course, but please refrain from noting spelling errors. Thank you for reading.

An argumentative retort to Charles Bukowski.

Write only when it's bleeding from the walls

Well tonight Romeo is bleeding and Juliet came back to stay

Its 1:37 am and I'm back here again

So yes old man we may wear the same size of shoes but for me the

laughs

and cigarettes come to an end and the walls

are finally bleeding.

I know you're here on my shoulder forming my words with the

illuminescent click clack of my grandmothers sky blue typewriter

Broken down again.

Keys are all sticking in every wrong order

but saying the right things in my head which I can never quite grasp

so instead

I bum another cigarette

and take another rip

Or sip a beer to numb the yelling from behind the walls

I grew up building.

Its funny isn't it?

The same vices that held my mother from doom before my father left held you

yes you behind a desk to dabble in the blood dripping.

And here I am

"a changed man"

having locked away my anger inside the same prisons in zen master's minds.

But say I am a master of a different kind...

Scatterbrained self lust as a deterant to self care.

Smoking until the day the world ends so that when every day comes crashing down

I'll be able to catch my breath.

I know you're right Charles. About the women, the booze, and the bleeding from the walls;

and as I see myself behind myself in a dissasociative trance

i can't help but love every bit of what makes you

me.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/9z0dey/the_cashier_lady_asked_me_how_i_was_doing_today/?utm_source=reddit-androidI

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/9z5qi8/clear_my_head/?utm_source=reddit-android