Stanzas: Monthly Chapbooks June 2015 (Concrete Nature) | Page 19

Bukowski, My Friend
Eoin Ó Muirí
close to you after you’ve
left this hell
who knows in what
absurd and grotesque
place you may now dwell!
Picked up by the tentacles
of a terrible goddess
eaten a thousand times
but never digested. In
the awful make up of
her face you’d smile and say
‘Come on baby!’
Or maybe
you’re still at that
eternal racetrack
next to some blond
in a mini-skirt
all tits and ass
trembling as your horse
comes in.
Whatever, either way
I am here
On a concrete bench
in a beautiful park
thinking of you.
Like you ever
thought
of me.

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