"It's about words, and words are all I have…"



She is giggling though the sound is grating  even to

his ears   He sits close & strokes a thigh  Holy shit   batman

this is really good!  she squeals   apropos of nothing


He has a closely cropped goatee   looks like a hipster

Mephistopheles  This morning 666  appeared in his latte

But his hopes to get lucky  fade with each  squeeeeeeel


To the lighthouse!  she chants in a Woolf-ian rant

as he moves in for the kill   stroking  stoking  glamouring

I glance away in disgust   What would  Charles Bukowski  say?


Now footsie is played  & wrestling begins   Holy shit I love owls!    

Should I puke now    or just run ’em over with my car?



I don’t hate people. I just feel better when they aren’t around.  

Charles Bukowski




SPRING   2014

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