bukowski

if you hated poetry at school,
if you thought it was for girls or gays or
you thought you were too tough for it,
then I commend to you,
without reservation,
the crazy sage of DeLongpre Avenue, that
dirty old man of San Pedro, that
ten-year drunk, that
back alley fist fighter, that
curmudgeonly horse player, that
ugly guy with the typer,
the ripped shorts,
the acne scars,
the mahler symphony on the radio,
the flop houses and the bad jobs,
the schlitz,
the cats,
the fruit trees,
and the buddhist monks
at green hills memorial park