A guy in my town imagines himself as Bukowski
Considers himself a romantic figure
He walks around town in a beery haze
Smokes cigarettes in dive bars
Carries a notebook full of poetry
Telling you about that time he got published
Self published – I say self, some woman paid for that
What was charming when he was 21 is tattered,
Worn out on a man in his 40’s
Though a tattered vagabond image works for Bukowski
Couch surfing
dumpster diving his way through life
Always manages to roll over and stand up
I see his bike by the bar at 2 in the afternoon
Curious, I look through the window
He’s there at the end chatting to the bartender
Scribbling in his notebook
Cigarette smoke curling around his face
Imagining he’s Bukowski