Issue
#8 

a poem by Scot Young (2 of 3)

bukowski was always right

bukowski sat
next to
brautigan in
gino's bar
said hey
fucker you
know when
the words
go you got
nothing no
more pussy
unless you
buy it…
might as
well cash
in yr chips--
richard looked
at the small pile
of change
beside the
wet coaster
counted forty
five cents
tried to scratch
out a poem
to trade for a
beer/nothing
--Now this is
what I'm talking
about,
bukowski said
rubbing the red
head's thigh up
under her dress
brautigan was
already on the
sidewalk pea coat
collar pulled up
against the north
beach rain
mustache still damp
from the last drops
of beer
45 cents clutched in his fist
like his last poem
wasn't enough for
anything

© by Scot Young     previous poem     next poem     return to top 

Gutter Eloquence Magazine ~ Issue #8 ~ March 2010