It’s All A Matter of Madness

by Randall Rogers

when I think of all the women
Bukowski screwed
according to what he writes
in the book “Women”
which I am currently reading
I think, shit,
the power of the written word
done right
easy
slow
hard
brutal thrusts
teasing thrusts
as the man himself put it,
a speak to the sad reality I’ve known, or seen
or maybe read about, the last one picked for
the team in all of us
add alcohol
and lot’s of puking
and I guess that hairy must have had a drunken
locomotive breath Chinnok of a guster
mouth blast
having that greasy lipped thing
licking and sucking on the pretties
he says he gets
and that huge Hank of a thing he so purply wields
when he is able (not too drunk to fuck)
kind of makes me sick
I should have stopped reading after "Post Office" and
"Ham on Rye".
But, like screwing Chinaski
must be to German and other want to be writer women
(Lyn did you screw Buk while alive?)
the drunk fucker’s prose
and the topics and how he deftly frays the uncertainty on them
this ludicrous literocity makes me want to inform the National Organization of Women
about Buk if they don’t already know,
too, turn the Brothers onto this dude,
cool them out on Whitey
and for me self
I gotta get fucking typing
keep
cranking out shit
grunted out of a mind-anus

to entertain.