no Bukowski, por Herman Shorts

no Bukowski

now, I’m no Bukowski

but my friends who don’t like poetry

except his stuff, tell me

they like mine, and I can drink

like a drinking machine

especially if you’re buying

so maybe I am.

(2013)

like bell bottoms or disco but we need it to think i’m dead

got the sex drive of 15 young bulls, but the women are all scared.

I dream sometimes you surprise me and it is surprising that I don’t immediately realize I’m dreaming

man, it’s hard to come down from impossible hopes seemingly

shall we turn down the covers, crawl inside? find there a place that’s been waiting for us, a vortex of sorts

this being we are, delights in all things, yes but is held breathless

i keep smiling forgetting to remember to stop myself.

if ever someone is my dearest ear who hears my truth as theirs

no means no. no response means no. (everyone knows maybe means nothing

I will meet you in the open air, & pet your pony’s nose. You will be

bring me things to break myself upon till

i could not conceive of such beauty, it had to hit me like it has. nothing

leaning into, not against it. no, decidedly for, yes, always that, no matter

was all stupid. you weren’t that entertaining. i find it all only sad now, that

i love you for the doubt you show me still possible in this body where you show me